The Switchuation
by kayixu
Summary: Two same but different skeletons are in for a wild ride, when they're forced to swap places. This will be the greatest scientific feat of the century! They've double and triple checked everything. Every test thus far has been successful. Still, one more guinea pig can't hurt, right? And Alphys and her friends know just the rodent! Sans isn't too sure about this...
1. Meet Sans… And also Sans

**Hello, Fanfictionites. So, I wrote a thing. I'm posting it on impulse. Was gonna try to start writing full stories before I began posting the chapters, but as it so happens, I can't seem to finish a longer story like this _at all_ that way. So I'm trying this again, I guess. I'll try not to leave you with any long waits between chapters. No promises, but I figure maybe if there's people waiting for new chapters, it'll help me actually finish the thing...?**

**This is an idea that's been in my mind for a while now, and I have a rather specific idea in mind for the cover image. I'll see what I can put together soon if I can. If the picture is up by the time you read this, great! Look at it and enjoy it, or something. Anyway, I'll shut up. Presenting: The Switchuation, chapter one. I hope it's not terrible and that you have fun reading~**

**OoOoO**

Chapter One: Meet Sans…. And also Sans

He couldn't breathe.

It was ridiculous. Signals had no effect on the air. They took up no space, removed no amount oxygen. Signals were just that: signals. This the monster told himself as he drove. The endless collection of antennas didn't cease to catch his eye socket. Radios played all around him loud enough to hear, each on a different station, adding to his discomfort. A glance to his right made him more aware of the driver next to him. She spoke on the phone, spewing words he didn't detect nor care about. Phone signals. Radio signals. Secret signals. Subliminal signals. Codes. He was extremely conscious of these things that both existed and did not. He felt like he was drowning in them.

The traffic light turned green before he could finish his next thought.

The sun was going down, or rather, the planet was rotating in such a way to create that illusion. There was a word that had begun to frequent his mind: illusion. It wasn't one he was accustomed to using. The South was famous for its people's way of talking, but certainly not for any form of _elegant_ speech. He swore, everyone else in the world believed people like him had no grasp of the English language. Yes, he knew the word "illusion" and he knew it well. It was simply not a word he often tended to say. Lately however, he'd been finding it more and more appropriate.

Because everything was an illusion.

Sans put the pedal as close to the floor as he could. He didn't concern himself much with speed limits. He had things to do. His to-do list wasn't overly full, but there were chores that required his attention before the day was through. There was dinner to be cooked, a house to be cleaned, and a detailed report to write. There was a poltergeist in the basement, a vampire in the attic, and an irritating neighbor to deal with. The kitchen faucet needed fixing; it believed it was a sprinkler. After everything else, he needed to sit down and plan out the following day, as well as one in his position could. There was so little left to do today that he considered the idea of finding himself with a bit of free time.

The notion distracted him from his previous musings. Anxiety still lurked within him, though the feeling wasn't enough to trouble the skeleton. Unlike the word "illusion", he was rather accustomed to the uneasy feeling in his chest. He couldn't remember a time in his life when it wasn't around to some extent. Sometimes people told him he really needed to relax.

OoOoO

Sometimes people told him he should learn how to take things seriously. Such words were spoken to him by his brother, just before Papyrus had departed. Sans had only chuckled in response. Like _that _was gonna happen!

With Papyrus off running errands, he smiled to himself. He teleported onto the kitchen counter, dirtying the surface with his pink slippers. Opening the cabinet, he reached as far as he could past the dishes, feeling around for his forbidden snack. He retrieved the hidden candy bar with a sigh of annoyance at his brother's new health food obsession. The area went dark for a moment and he was suddenly within the pantry. The tiny room was not illuminated, though such a thing was unnecessary. He knew exactly where to find the box of sugary cereal.

He teleported back to the couch and dropped the food unceremoniously onto the cushions. He then looked to the flower pot sitting on the windowsill several feet away. He teleported over to the glass container and paused. There was something about yellow flowers that unnerved him, though he must have forgotten what exactly caused that feeling. Pushing the thoughts from his mind, Sans grasped the collection of stems and carefully lifted them and the dirt they rested in. He picked up the handheld device beneath them, replaced the plants, and teleported back to the couch.

He dusted the dirt off the gaming system, not bothering to pay attention to where it ended up. It wouldn't be long before he ran out of hiding places in his room. Why wouldn't Papyrus understand that he _liked _his room being a mess, that it was far easier for him to locate things that way, and that it was rude to invade his privacy like that? He laid on the couch, one leg resting on the back of it. With one hand holding the 3DS, he used the other as well as his teeth to open the candy. He began this gaming session whilst he spat out wrapper and took a bite of the junk food.


	2. A Look Into the Life of Sans, and Sans

**Ooh, lookit that! A new chapter so soon?**

**Fun fact that no one asked for: the AU where the other Sans lives wasn't made specifically for this story. The idea for it came along one night after a weird incident. I had looked up funny cat pictures, clicked on one of the links that came up, and my computer began telling me about how I needed to call a number because it had been hacked and/or someone was stealing my identity. It said that if I didn't call the number, it would shut down and not come back on for security reasons or something... I just turned the computer off, and whilst thinking about that weirdness, this AU sprung to life in my brain. Computer was fine~**

**OoOoO **

Chapter Two: A Look Into the Life of Sans, and Sans

He realized that his actions didn't always appear rational. He understood that beating a computer to smithereens wasn't the typical response to a spam email. It wasn't normal. Sans cared not about those meaningless details. It just so happened that he was not a normal, typical person. So what if he'd screamed, "They can't steal my identity from a computer that doesn't exist!"? Part of the blame fell upon the poltergeist for encouraging such behavior, anyway. It _had _been the one to supply him with the golf club.

All things considered, it wasn't really his fault. He knew better than most people, the truth of this world. Everything was a conspiracy. Everything was a cover up. A little over reaction now and then was to be expected. For someone of his perilous occupation, a bit of caution was understandable. He didn't need a psychiatrist. His paranoia was justified, not that a normal person would heed those claims. Maybe they believed him insane. Maybe they were afraid of the truth. Maybe….

Maybe they were out to get him.

He took a deep breath, finding that there wasn't enough oxygen to satisfy his unseen lungs. His eye sockets wandered to the clock that ticked too slowly to not have been tampered with. "Show up twenty minutes before your appointment" they demanded. Why? No one deigned to tell him. This was a waste of twenty minutes. There were plenty of other things more deserving of this time.

Not enough oxygen. He fidgeted in the uncomfortable seat, and checked his phone. Just what he was checking it for eluded him, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Shoving it back into his pocket, he shifted again, wishing the rigged clock would tick at a faster pace. All of this waiting threatened to give him a panic attack. Why were they even called attacks, he questioned no one as he tapped his fingers on an armrest. Was it some form of subliminal messaging? Was it perhaps a warning? Could it be that someone or something was planning to attack him? Who where they? Who did they work for?

Another deep breath. Sans had grown increasingly irritated with his situation. He loathed going along with this. He protected the citizens of the world from unspeakable dangers. Yet instead of respect and recognition, his thanks was being trapped within their fantasy. Pretending that everything was always as it seemed, all while risking his life to protect that _illusion. _Why, he wondered, did things have to be this way?

And again, he begun to drown in the tangled web of signals.

OoOoO

Sans was under the firm belief that the evening simply couldn't get any better. He'd pestered his sibling with joke after joke, retreated into his messy room for a bit of secret gaming, and enjoyed a greasy dinner at Grillby's with some friends. He stepped out into the cool evening air, his gaze turning to the sky. The horizon was painted with fiery hues. Far above the world, the glimmer of stars had manifested. He remained still for a moment to relish the sight.

The skeleton was for a time, plagued by indecision. He ambled along the quiet streets trying to choose a proper ending to this lovely day. A car rushed by, startling him to some tiny extent. Not much time had passed since monsterkind stepped out into the light of day. Everyone had settled quickly regardless. Both sides accepted each other for the most part. The royal family was out calming any concerns the human leaders may have. Everything was wonderful.

The question remained: Would he spend the final few hours of today in his basement laboratory? Or would he spend them stargazing? There were a few projects vying for his attention, amusing inventions to be created. The beauty and wonder of the cosmos tugged at his soul, however. The lights in the sky eventually won the unseen competition.

Sans teleported to the front door and swung it open as he called out a greeting. He announced, "I'm baaaack! Dinner was great. You should join me next…."

It was at this moment that he realized Papyrus was nowhere to be seen.

"….Time."

He sniffed the air, finding it devoid of spaghetti scent. Leaving the door wide open, he ambled around the ground floor in search of his brother.

"Papyrus?"

"I'M UP HERE!"

He didn't like the sound of that.

Teleporting to his bedroom door, he found it partly opened. He discovered upon stepping into the room that once again it had been cleaned against his will. Papyrus concluded his fluffing of a pillow and placed it neatly on the bed. Sans rolled his metaphorical eyes, annoyed at the intrusion.

"How many times have I told you not to come in my room?"

"AT LEAST FOUR HUNDRED AND TWENTY NINE," said Papyrus with hands on his hips.

"Huh…. Cool. Let's make it four hundred thirty."

This the younger sibling rolled his own "eyes" at. "YOUR ROOM NEEDED CLEANING, SANS!"

"I had a self-sustaining tornado."

"OF GARBAGE."

He stepped closer to his brother, glaring up at him. "_Self-sustaining tornado."_

"_OF GARBAGE," _said Papyrus, looming over him. "THE ROOM WAS A WRECK!"

"I like it that way."

"WELL YOU'RE WRONG!"

Sans was silent, though he didn't look away.

"BESIDES, AFTER THE MESS YOU MADE THE OTHER DAY, I FELT IT WOULD BE FITTING!"

"I didn't make a mess."

"YOU COVERED OUR SOFA WITH CRUMBS AND WALKED ON THE KITCHEN COUNTER, SANS! YOU MADE A MESS, SO I MADE THE OPPOSITE OF A MESS! AN UN-MESS! TAKE THAT, YOU THOUGHTLESS BONEHEAD!"

He chuckled at the pun as Papyrus crossed his arms, frustration remaining.


	3. A Most Unpleasant Consequence

Chapter Three: A Most Unpleasant Consequence

Staring at Papyrus through narrowed eye sockets, Sans made yet another attempt to ascertain his brother's motives. For three days Papyrus had been his usual self. Three days had gone by of nothing in particular. Three blissful days had passed without incident of any kind. Today, the younger sibling was oddly quiet, leaving Sans to wonder about the cause of it.

He ate the poorly-cooked spaghetti bite by tiny bite, waiting for the foul taste of pickle juice to assault his lack of a tongue. It never came. Once the two of them finished breakfast, the dishes were gathered, and cleaning begun without a word. Certain that his brother was up to something, he crept cautiously into the kitchen. Papyrus' back was turned, the skeletal monster seemingly preoccupied with his task. His surroundings revealed no trace of a vengeful prank in waiting, though Sans decided not to take a chance.

The room went dark, then flickered back into existence. His eye sockets lost their usual specks of light. An upside-down heart glowed from within him, blue.

He'd seen this look before, and it was in this moment that Sans realized: he'd screwed up.

A mere prank would not be enough to sate his brother. That devious look warned him of a different plan and sparked a feeling he was not accustomed to. They remained in place for a few agonizing seconds, the smirk never leaving Papyrus' face. At last he watched his captor turn back to the dishes, neglecting to release him. Sans shifted, trying gently to free himself of the magical hold. He tried time and time again, his attempts eventually growing ever so slightly frantic. Few times had he seen Papyrus take on that expression. Never did it end well for the poor victim on the receiving end of it. He knew from personal experience.

"Uh, Papyrus? Whatever you're thinking right now…. Stop thinking it."

"WHAT EVER DO YOU MEAN, DEAR BROTHER?"

"You know what I'm talking about. You know you go a little…." He paused to consider the proper wording. "…. overboard sometimes, with these kinda things."

"WITH WHAT KIND OF THINGS?"

"You know. Revenge."

"PERHAPS." He held up a plate, ensuring it was devoid of any trace of food. "BUT ALSO! I THINK THAT IN THIS CASE, I AM _NOT_ GOING OVERBOARD! I THINK THAT I AM GOING EXACTLY THE RIGHT AMOUNT OF BOARD!"

"But-but uh, that's what you say every time," he replied with a nervous laugh. "It doesn't really go so great, like, ever."

"IT GOES VERY WELL FOR ME." The dishes clean and put away, Papyrus turned to him. "ENOUGH, SANS! STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT. THERE'S NO NEED TO BE SO DRAMATIC."

"I think-"

"YOU'VE JUST GOT TO ACCEPT IT, SANS! THERE'S NO ESCAPE NOW!"

With such ominous words, how could he _not _be a bit dramatic?

He struggled, then released a sigh of resignation. "Okay, okay. I give up. Just tell me my horrible fate."

"IT IS NOT HORRIBLE," said Papyrus, allowing the magic to dissipate. "YOU'RE GOING TO HELP ALPHYS WITH HER EXPERIMENT!"

"Hm. That doesn't sound so bad. What's the catch?"

"IT INVOLVES WORK! ACTUALLY DOING PRODUCTIVE THINGS!" Picking up the smaller monster, he carried Sans into the living room and dropped him onto the couch. "WAIT HERE."

He observed as Papyrus left the room, annoyed at having been lifted. His eye sockets wandered to the blank TV screen whilst he mentally debated making a run for it. Run, meaning teleporting the heck out of here. He didn't find himself with much time to dwell on the idea. His sibling returned rolling a mobile chalkboard into the room and in front of the television.

"Where'd you get that?"

"I FOUND IT. NOW PAY ATTENTION."

He was momentarily struck with the feeling that somewhere, a weird writer was overly amused by her own joke. Odd.

"ALPHYS EXPLAINED IT THIS WAY!" Papyrus drew a couple of vertical lines. "THESE ARE DIMENSIONS." Somehow he managed to draw a perfect circle in the midst of one. "THIS IS A UNIVERSE. THIS ONE IS OURS."

"Okay."

"REPEAT AFTER ME: THIS IS MY UNIVERSE. THERE ARE MANY LIKE IT BUT THIS ONE IS MINE."

"Her experiment-"

"SANS! REPEAT WHAT I JUST TOLD YOU!"

With a roll of his metaphorical eyes, he said, "this is my universe. There are many like it but this one is mine."

"EXCELLENT! NOW-" yet another perfect circle at the center of the other line- "THIS IS ANOTHER UNIVERSE. IT IS ONE VERY SIMILAR TO OURS!" A new line, one connecting the two circles. "YOU'RE GOING THERE!"

Sans blinked, despite his lack of eyes. "Okay."

"THIS IS THE EXPERIMENT SHE HAS BEEN SECRETLY WORKING ON FOR MONTHS! TRAVELING BETWEEN UNIVERSES! AND SHE REQUIRES ONE MORE TEST, BEFORE ANNOUNCING IT TO THE WORLD WITH HER NEW SCIENTIST FRIENDS!"

"Okay." Just how had she managed to keep this from him? He couldn't recall a single instance of suspicious behavior from the lizard; not once had she let it slip during their forbidden gaming sessions.

"AND YOU ARE THE TEST SUBJECT! SHE CALLED ME YESTERDAY AND INVITED ME OVER TO DISCUSS IT. WE BOTH AGREE THAT YOU NEED TO DO SOMETHING USEFUL! AND THIS WILL BE IT!"

"Uh…. Okay?"

"YOU WILL SWAP PLACES WITH THE SANS OF THAT UNIVERSE, AND GATHER INFORMATION ABOUT IT! WHAT IS DIFFERENT? WHAT IS THE SAME? AND WHILE THE OTHER UNIVERSE IS A LOT LIKE OURS, THERE IS ONE BIG DIFFERENCE!"

The devious look returned to his brother's face, causing Sans to realize this was the part he'd been waiting for, dreading.

"THE OTHER SANS IS A RESPONSIBLE ADULT!"

All the questions previously swarming around in his skull went quiet, as he came to understand what this meant.

He would have to _do _things.

"No."

"YES."


	4. The Switch

**And now, the chapter where the actual switchuation begins. Apologies if it feels a bit rushed. Didn't wanna take too long getting to this part. There's a few Drake and Josh references in here, have a cookie if you find them!**

Chapter Four: The Switch

"SANS! WAKE UP; TODAY IS THE DAY YOU LEAVE!"

"I don't wanna."

The past week had consisted of preparation. The humans his friend worked with had insisted on doing things in this overly-complicated manner, which seemed counterproductive to their supposed reasoning. Ensuring peace between the worlds was far likelier without technically kidnapping someone, according to all forms of logic he knew of, at least.

"DOESN'T MATTER! YOU'RE GOING AND THAT'S THAT!"

Sans buried his face in the pillow, attempting despite the absurdity of it, to escape the situation. This was insane. How could the people closest to him conspire against him like this? He'd done nothing wrong! What was the issue with some small amount of sloppiness? It was far better than being constantly on edge, stressing about every detail of even the tiniest things. Perhaps that was why his brother hardly slept.

It was too early to be awake. His internal clock ticked with a tiredness that began to cloud his thoughts and pull him back into the lovely state of sleep. His mind drifted idly, wandering to the vast expanse of the universe. He saw without seeing, planets of improbable shapes and colors. A pair of stars orbited each other in a form of cosmic dance. Asteroids, comets, and a bottle of ketchup flew by. A collection of spiral galaxies appeared in the distance. They looked close; though they must have been light years away. Nebulae radiated a wondrous collection of colors.

Water? What was water doing in sp-

"Papyrus!"

The subject of his ire gazed down at him smugly, droplets falling from the weapon of choice. He reached for the bucket. Papyrus kept it just beyond his grasp. The two of them existed like this for a time, Sans' glare meeting his brother's self-approving expression.

"THERE'S AN EXCITING NEW DAY BEFORE YOU, SANS! GET UP AND SEIZE IT!"

"I don't _seize _what you mean, you little-"

"WELL _WATER _YOU WAITING FOR? GET UP AND FIND OUT!"

Begrudgingly, he obeyed.

After changing into dry clothes and leaving his soaked jacket hanging up in his room, he joined his sibling in the dinning room for a 3AM breakfast. They spoke little, and only to bicker. Papyrus took their dishes into the kitchen to clean them, not without throwing another insult at Sans along the way. He sat there wallowing in the unfamiliar embers of annoyance. Without the arguing to keep him awake, he crossed his arms on the table, a makeshift pillow for yet another attempt at rest. His eye sockets mimicked natural eyes, with a few sleepy blinks preceding their closure. Hardly had the skeleton begun to drift off when Papyrus' shouting snapped him back to the waking world.

"DON'T EVEN THINK OF TRYING TO GO BACK TO SLEEP, YOU LAZY BUTT!"

"I'm not a morning person."

"YOU'RE HARDLY A PERSON AT ALL! JUST A BLOB OF LAZINESS!"

Not deigning to sit up, he replied, "and you're a cold, stale french fry."

A gasp, then, "YOU TAKE THAT BACK!"

"No."

"SANS, I'M WARNING YOU."

"When I get back, I'm gonna take an _entire bottle _of maple syrup, and pour all over your underwear drawer."

The hiss of the kitchen faucet went silent. Papyrus stormed back into the room. "WELL _I'LL _JUST HAVE TO TAPE ALL THE KETCHUP TO THE CEILING WHERE YOU CAN'T GET TO IT!"

This he raised his head at, pointing to his brother with a venomous look. "_Oh no_, don't you even _think_ about stealing my favorite condiment."

"SANS," Papyrus warned, taking on an expression much like the one before, but darker.

"You think you can scare me? At three thirty in the _friggin' A.M._? You're crazy."

Papyrus leaped across the room, landing gracefully beside the chair where Sans remained. Towering over him with arms crossed, he asked, "DO YOU WANNA HAVE A BAD TIME?"

He glared upward, unimpressed. "Don't make me come up there."

His jaws parted, before realization came over him. "THREE THIRTY? IT'S TIME TO GO!"

OoOoO

"WILL YOU QUIT LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT? JUST ACCEPT YOUR FATE, SANS! AFTER ALL, YOU BROUGHT IT ON YOURSELF."

"First of all, no. I'm gonna continue looking at you like this for several more minutes. Secondly, I didn't bring _anything _on myself. You're just a puppet."

"WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?"

"It means you're really-"

"DON'T YOU DARE-"

"_High-strung_."

"SANS I WILL PULL THIS CAR OVER AND-"

"And what?"

"I'LL-THAT'S NOT- AGH! JUST BE QUIET! WE'RE ALMOST THERE ANYWAY."

"You're telling _me _to be quiet?"

"YES!"

After a few moments of angry staring, he turned away from his sibling. It was at around this time that Sans noticed a tiny object by his foot. With not much else to do with these remaining few minutes of travel time, he picked it up, finding that it was a peanut. With a shrug, he bit the shell, cracking it.

"SANS!"

"What?"

"THAT'S GROSS!"

"Is not," he responded, and proceeded with his tiny snack.

"WHY ARE YOU SO DISGUSTING?"

"'Cause you're clean enough for the both of us."

OoOoO

The pair arrived right on time, their muffled voices letting Alphys know of their presence. She opened the door, finding that they fell quiet upon noticing the movement. Each had looks of forced cheerfulness that raised a simple question in her mind. She chose not to intrude in their business.

"Uh…. Ready?"

"HE'S READY!"

"Ready as I can be at this hour."

She smiled at her friend's reply. She gave him a glance which lasted only for one tick of the clock, then told them to follow, trusting that Sans had picked up on her secret message.

'_You've been up this late before playing video games.'_

"You know the plan, right?"

She heard him say, "yep. You get the other me here, and I pretend to be the me that's not me. I find out what's different in that world and, uh, kinda gauge what I think people's reactions would be to the whole parallel universe thing."

"So you've been listening after all! We've already gotten the other you here. He'll be unconscious the whole time, so all that's left to do is get you to the other world."

She heard him chuckle, then say, "yeah, that's all. Crossing into a different dimension. Simple. You sure you know what you're doing?"

"Positive!"

That voice belonged to one of her new friends, the word spoken as she popped out from behind the circular contraption they'd finally reached. Alphys felt the stirring of anxiety within her soul. Of course she wasn't sure, not entirely. This had never been done before. It hadn't exactly been planned out for a while, either. The project had started rather spontaneously. Construction had begun in a room she'd planned to use for storage, and based on a rough sketch. She took a deep breath as discretely as she could manage. Everything would be okay, she reassured herself.

The next few minutes passed by in a blur. Her friend was given the magical stone that would help them locate and recollect him. The two humans present excitedly rushed her to begin the process. Everyone said their farewells. The lizard watched as sparks of magic flew from the machine and swirled him in a fantastic light show.

There was a flash, and Sans was gone.


	5. Arrival

Chapter Five: Arrival

Despite his lack of eyes, the sudden change from light to dark succeeded in leaving him temporarily blind. The surface beneath his slippers had changed from metal to what he presumed to be carpet. The room was quiet, save for a low humming noise he scarcely registered, and breathing revealed a foreign scent.

He closed his eye sockets, speeding up their adjustment. Sans took a deep breath, relaxed once again now that he'd been transported without issue. He took in his new surroundings. To his left was the bed; it was the only messy thing in this room. There were a number of shelves lining a section of the wall, books placed neatly to fill each one. A blurry picture hung on the wall. He saw little past the open closet door, though guessed it was well organized. The desk was empty save for a boring lamp and pen holder. Sans realized in horror that the trash can next to it had been recently emptied.

"Ah, crap."

That maple syrup thing was _definitely _happening when he returned.

Flicking on the light switch, he stepped with some hesitation into the closet. Amusement bubbled inside of him at that human saying he was now the literal representation of. Kicking off the pink slippers, he picked them up and hid them within an unused pair of rain boots. It seemed the other Sans' wardrobe consisted mostly of jogging pants and sweaters, with a few t-shirts. He chose one of the many grey pairs of pants. He donned a simple blue shirt, feeling thoroughly weirded out about using this recently worn apparel. He tossed his own clothes past the boxes on the shelf above him. He stared at the small wire basket hanging on the wall, debating on whether or not to steal the other Sans' socks as well.

_Think I'll pass for now, _he thought whilst wiggling his toes for some reason.

It occurred to him then and there: there was no one around to keep him from sleeping.

He turned off the light. He closed the door behind him without a glance at it. Sans made himself comfortable, far too preoccupied with the notion of sleep to care about whose bed this was. Closing his eye sockets, it wasn't long before a dreamless rest overtook him.

OoOoO

"Wake up! Wake up or I'll kill you!"

"I'm gonna kill you!"

"YOU'RE GONNA DIE!"

The words struck his mind like lightning, snapping him immediately into a state of alertness. He sat up, willing a flurry of magical bones to appear. An unfamiliar tightness gripped his soul, startling him into a quiet gasp. His eye sockets darted around in search of the threat. What they found was not what they had expected. Though similar, this was _not _his room.

He saw the phone on the nightstand, screen bright. Everything clicked into place. The death threats persisted until he dismissed the alarm, breathing a sigh of relief and irritation. What maniac wakes up at five o'clock in the morning?

He waved his hand to allow the bones to vanish, noticing upon this act that the attack had never manifested. He stared at nothing for a time, waiting for his sleepy half-thoughts to become something more useful. Sans tried once more to summon a few bones. They flickered in and out of existence from within the haze encasing them. Concentrating did little to improve these results. Scratching his skull, he made a mental note of this.

He set the phone's timer for ten minutes, then went back to sleep.

"Wake up or I'll kill you!"

That wasn't ten minutes.

"Wake up or I'll kill you!"

Again.

"Wake up or I'll kill you!"

One more time couldn't hurt, right?

"Seriously, get up. It's five forty in the morning."

"Wha- how?"

The phone didn't say.

Burying his face in the pillow, he imitated the noises of a dying whale. Then, "okay, okay. It's just for a few days, right? I can do this for a few days."

He put the phone in the pocket not holding a magical locator stone.

Sans opened the door slowly, unsure of what to expect. Surely things wouldn't be that much different. He'd been assured of that numerous times; it did make sense that anything vastly different would be much farther away, therefore inaccessible to their prototype machine. That was, if the multiverse theory as he knew it was true.

The décor was by no means a mirror image of the house he knew. Nothing stood out to him in particular, however. He continued down the hall to begin descending the stairs. He wondered as he walked what this world's version of his brother was like. Alphys hadn't told him anything of the other Papyrus. Halfway down the flight of stairs, the silence was broken by a meow.

A bright orange feline ran up the steps to entwine itself with his feet, each meow sounding whinier than the last. He gripped the rail, proceeding to move carefully downward. The cat hissed at him upon their reaching of the ground floor. He stared down at the animal wondering what it wanted so badly to make it act in such a dangerous way. The feline stared back up at him with yellow eyes, now sitting before him and sniffing the air.

"Heya. Y'know, ya shouldn't do stuff like that. Don't want anyone to get hurt, do ya?"

The look on its face told him it just might. Another loud meow.

"So, uh, you hungry?"

It meowed in reply.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'," he said while ambling toward the kitchen. "C'mon, then. Show me where they keep your food."


	6. A Rather Rude Awakening

Chapter Six: A Rather Rude Awakening

The orange cat ran past him and into the kitchen, towards the pantry. There it waited, staring at him expectantly. He noticed whilst following that a coffee maker sat on the counter. The pot was half full, and sniffing the air brought about its strong scent. It was fresh. He opened the pantry door, where he found the cat food. He retrieved a scoop of the kibble before following the cat to its food bowl tucked away in a corner.

Was it normal for this world's version of him to drink coffee? He'd never tasted it before, and Sans found himself oddly curious. Or perhaps it was the sleep-deprivation getting to his head. Either way, he found a mug, and poured himself a cup of the beverage. He took a sip with some amount of hesitation, finding the taste to be utterly disgusting. How did people drink this? He wondered such things as he poured out the caffeinated liquid. He ambled over to the fridge in search of a soda.

Within he found normal fridge-dwelling groceries; milk, eggs, and shadowy hand reaching out from below. He noticed a few cans of soda of a brand he didn't recognize. Deciding to try it, he retrieved a container and closed the door. He turned back to the rest of the kitchen. There he stood in silence. He opened the new choice of beverage and tried it, finding it all right. It was nothing amazing, but certainly better than the dirt water.

His thoughts grew slightly clearer as he stood there, taking in the familiar yet foreign room. It didn't take long for his mind to wander in the direction of what was to come. Thankfully, this other Sans was a librarian, likely giving him a chance to take a secret nap or two during the day. He stepped towards the kitchen table, pulled a chair out from beneath it, then paused.

Shadowy hand in the fridge?

He stood there, blinking for a few ticks of the clock. He drank a bit more of the soda before slowly setting it down next to the used coffee mug. He turned around and took one suspenseful step at a time toward the refrigerator. Had it not been so early and he not so horrendously sleepy, it may have been a creepy few moments. He reached out for the handle, pulled the door open, and examined the contents held within.

"Hm…. Guess I'm just seeing things."

"Sans!"

The shrill feminine voice snapped his attention to the room's entrance. Standing there, clothed entirely in black garments, was Papyrus. Sans ducked behind the open fridge door to suppress his laughter. He wondered whilst barely containing his amusement if they knew back home that this world's Papyrus was a teenage girl. It seemed as though that would have been useful information to give to him, and he questioned in the midst of this rampant hilarity if there were any other surprises to come.

"About damn time you got up! I was starting to think you were dead or somethin'."

He sat down, giggling as silently as he could manage. He heard footsteps nearing the door.

"You okay?"

With a quick deep breath, he grabbed a shelf to help himself up. Their eye sockets met over the edge of the door, and his vision turned immediately to the overly gothic outfit she had donned.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah-heh-I….I-I uh… I'm okay. You okay?"

"I ain't the one that's gonna make us late. You sure you're not sick or somthin'?"

"Yeah, I'm-I'm fine." He took a stabilizing breath as he adjusted to the sight. "But watch your language, next time, m'kay?"

And with that, he walked back over to the table, closing the door behind him. He sat down and drained half the can before he looked back to the spot where she'd been standing.

Sans hadn't the time to question where she'd gone to. A flash of movement, something flying directly at his face. He barely dodged in time. The soda fell to the floor, as did he. He looked up to see the skillet once again hurtling toward his head. He rolled out of the way, hearing a loud metallic ring fill the air. He got to his feet. Well, this was a way to wake up!

"Papyrus!" He dodged. "What are-" a side step, her weapon plunging into the wall. Splinters flew. She pulled it from the hole. "You doing?"

Her response was a battle screech. She charged. He narrowly avoided the blow.

"Whats-"

"Who the hell are you and what'd you do with my brother, you impostor?"

"I-" he heard the noise of the air parting before her weapon as it came at him.

"TELL ME!"

His soul pulsed with adrenaline. That one had almost hit him.

"I can't-" he dodged. "Tell you-" again. "If I'm-" and once more. "Dead!"

Her attack came to a halt. She stood there, blinking while she reflected on his words. "You gotta point."

He merely stared at her, eye sockets dark.

She lowered the makeshift weapon. "Okay. Tell me, _then _I'll bash yer skull in."


	7. Friend?

**Okay, WHY is it that every time I try to write things, RL gets crazier than normal? Here's a chapter, short but a chapter and I'll try to make the next one a long one, especially with what's to come in this story. Picture wasn't the one I was hoping to make but I wanted there to be a picture so there it is~**

Chapter Seven: Friend?

Well, here went nothing.

"Suppose I should introduce myself properly," he said after a pause. "Heya. I'm Sans. Sans the skeleton. Puns are my specialty. That, and hiding my video game collection from Papyrus, who in my world…."

She stared at him through narrowed eye sockets as she took in this information. Sans yet again struggled to contain his laughter.

"Who in my world is…. A lot different."

The last spoken word was consumed by the awkward silence that followed. His soul had stopped pulsing wildly as it had, though he made sure to keep an eye socket on that iron skillet. Papyrus blinked, and he could tell by the expression she wore that she was questioning his sanity. He watched a million thoughts pass through her mind. He saw her grip on the weapon tighten and loosen. Finally, she spoke.

"So where's _my _Sans, then?"

"Taking a nap. He'll be unconscious in my world for a few days, while I'm here."

She nodded slowly, keeping her gaze fixated on him. "And _why _are you here?"

"Friend o' mine built this uh, inter-dimensional teleportation thingamajig. She and my brother are making me test it. I'm supposed to see what's different in this world, and let 'em know. If I think people'll be cool with the whole parallel universe thing, our worlds meet in a more official way."

She stared at him, not entirely convinced that she shouldn't continue her attack.

"Eh, look, I'm not exactly thrilled about it either. I don't like exerting energy. But we're kinda stuck together 'till this is over. Your brother's safe; nobody's gonna murder 'im or anything," he explained, taking a careful step towards her. "And as you can tell, I don't really know what I'm doing. I could probably use some help."

Her stance grew more relaxed as he spoke, the skillet gradually lowering until her arm hung by her side. He observed as the wheels turned, and she came to a decision.

"So whaddaya say? Truce?" He extended a hand, amusement bubbling inside of him at the little secret he'd smuggled into this world.

"Okay."

A sound rippled through the air, one most familiar to him. She stared at him, confusion evident on her features. He merely smiled. Their hands parted, and she became aware of the whoopee cushion Sans held. He chuckled at his own joke as her own skeletal smile became genuine. She joined him, laughing.

"Other Sans," she said once they were through. "I think we're gonna get along just fine."

"Cool."

"But'cha gonna need some serious trainin' if you're gonna pass as my brother. An' we don't have much time for it. C'mon."

She left her weapon on the table and he followed her into the living room, where he took a seat on the couch. Papyrus left the room, returning moments later with a mobile chalkboard. He decided not to question it this time. He yawned, relaxing into the couch cushions. She turned around from her hasty scribbling to give him a look of sheer disapproval.

"What?"

"First lesson: sit up!"

"Okay."

"An' look stressed out!"

"Uh, Okay."

"Hm…. That'a be arright for now. Welcome to the crash course of how to be Sans! Imma be your teacher. Pay attention, 'cause we don't got very long to go over everything."


	8. A Typical Morning

Chapter Eight: A Typical Morning

It wasn't until he sat there, staring blankly at the steering wheel, that Sans' tired mind chose to acknowledge the new problem. He could sense Papyrus' gaze upon him. His eye sockets darted around from one part of the setup to another. There were far more gauges than he'd realized, levers poking out from behind the wheel, which held numerous buttons he couldn't fathom the purpose of, and a dial whose function was lost to him. Sans wished in this moment that he'd actually listened to his brother's ramblings about his new car and how it worked. It then crossed his mind that he also should have paid attention to the excited chattering about the rules. He hadn't the faintest clue of how he was to act, aside from a few things he'd casually observed his brother doing.

"You dunno how to drive?"

"I'm sure I can figure it out," he said as he cranked the car.

"What the hell, dude."

"Language, dude."

With a roll of her metaphorical eyes, Papyrus held up the remote to the garage door and pressed a button.

"Okay," she said in the midst of the skull-splitting metallic screeches. "This thing here controls what gear it's in. Ya see those letters? The "P" stands for park, the "R" is reverse, an' the "D" stands for drive."

"And what about the other ones?"

"Don't worry 'bout those," said Papyrus with a dismissive wave of her hand. "The brake's the big middle pedal an' the gas is on the right."

"Okay, but what about-"

"Don' even think about it right now, we gotta go!"

He turned to look at her, asking, "how do you even know all this?"

"How d' you _not _know it?"

Her incredulous expression told him not to expect an answer.

He moved one of the levers until the arrow pointed to the "R", finding the action a simple, quick one. The car began to move on its own, causing his half-lidded eye sockets to fully open. Its gradual motion increased in speed as the car rolled along the slight downhill slope of the driveway. He found the brake pedal just as another vehicle flew by behind them. They halted with a sudden jolt.

"We're gonna die," stated Papyrus in a monotone voice as she pressed a button to close the garage.

"Hey, gimmie a break. This isn't so commonplace in my world."

He pulled slowly out into the street, keeping watch on all the mirrors. He brought the car to their perceived right side of the road and held the brakes. Shifting the gear to drive, he allowed the chunk of metal to begin crawling forward. He gave the gas pedal a gentle tap to experiment before beginning the trip. They reached the end of the street before long, a bright red stop sign reflecting the light from the sunrise. He halted the car and paused. He turned left after a moment, as per her instructions.

He would have rather been sleeping of course, but felt some spark of enthusiasm in his soul. The lights in his eye sockets grew brighter. Sans was driving, and while it had never been something he had any particular interest in, it lifted his mood regardless. He tried to replicate his brother's actions, and it was in his opinion that he was doing well. Smiling proudly, he sped the car up to the speed limit.

He heard the roaring of an engine, and a horn as someone flew past his window.

"What was that all about?"

"Yer goin' too slow."

"But the signs say the speed limit-"

"Ain't nobody care 'bout those unless there's cops around. Speed up."

"Heh. Well, you haven't _steered_ me wrong yet, but I think I'm gonna leave the _wreck_less driving to people with more experience."

He waited to discover her reaction to puns, only to find himself disappointed at her lack of such. This world's Papyrus merely shrugged and turned her gaze to the road ahead of them.

OoOoO

Upon dropping Papyrus off at school, Sans found himself alone with little sense of direction. This city did somewhat resemble the one he knew, but not nearly enough for him to truly know where he was going. This version of it felt cluttered and chaotic; not a moment passed by that didn't involve some form of activity. Cars hurried along to their various destinations. Crowds of humans and monsters flooded every available sidewalk, which he took note of. Even the sky above them seemed a bit too lively, Sans noticing a few planes and a lone helicopter thus far. There were numerous buildings here where in his world there were none. Towers of stone and glass reached for the sky. Electronic signs and screens decorated many of them. This world featured a level of development not yet present in the place he was familiar with. That, coupled with the way the two races interacted with such ease and normalcy, caused him to believe this world was several years further ahead of his own.

Thankfully, Papyrus was able to give him the address of the library he was to work at. It existed supposedly a little ways away from the city, in a quieter location fit for peaceful reading. It must have been a rather fancy place too, as it held some rare texts of historical importance. A fitting place to research the differences of this world. How convenient he thought, as he followed the GPS's directions.

The GPS eventually lead him out into the woods. He followed the winding road as some part of him took comfort in the familiar scene. Not that he'd taken issue with the abundance of technology, but the greenery he was more accustomed to seeing calmed any underlying tension in his soul. He breathed deeply, relishing the presence of his old friend Relaxation, then froze.

Why was he breathing?

Skeletons didn't typically breathe unless they found themselves under stress. Be it any form of physical or emotional unease, once it reached a certain point, a skeleton's body produced excess amounts of magic in response. Lungs would form, invisible in most cases but there, and the extra magic poured into these organs. The monster would instinctively inhale, then exhale the magic before it could build up in one's body and cause them to fall ill. It wasn't the _only_ time a skeleton breathed. There were plenty of cases of those who did simply because they liked the feeling of the air flowing through their skull. Smelling things was another such occurrence. The fact that he'd been breathing without just cause however, didn't fail to pique his interest.

So as he pulled into the parking lot, and beside another car, he held his breath. He waited. The feeling was slow to manifest, but it did. The odd sensation of pressure arrived in his lungs and chest. It was faint at first, but grew rather quickly, forcing him to resume breathing once again. Sans stared at the golden orb of light peeking over the treeline. He suspected this had something to do with his inability to summon a magical attack. Whatever be the case, he hadn't the time to think about it at the moment. He didn't have a clue what time it was or when he was meant to be here.

The building was grand in appearance. Walls of grey stone towered over him, and a glass dome protruded from the roof. The dark wooden doors opened to a building full of knowledge and plush chairs to help with absorbing it. He didn't have long to take in the sight, nor ask himself any silent questions of just what he was supposed to do here.

"Hey! Where ya been? You're ten minutes late!"

"Sorry," he replied to the human male approaching him. "Traffic."

"Arright well, we gotta busy day ahead of us so c'mon."

He followed along behind this person he was probably supposed to know. He realized after several hasty steps that he'd shoved his hands into his pockets. He removed them. Other Sans had a tendency to fidget, constantly finding a task for his hands to be doing rather than letting them sit idly. He kept Papyrus' teachings in mind, repeating everything to himself as he jogged to catch up.

The human was dressed in more appropriate attire for one working at such a place. He wondered how he was able to get away with showing up in a T-shirt and sweatpants. He didn't question it for long, as he was being lead into a back area of the building. It looked much like what he would have expected; these rooms were messier, boxes lining wire shelves, each one filled with either files or books. That wasn't the end of their little trip, however.

Beyond those rooms of boxes of books, beyond anything that resembled an office of any kind, beyond the closets of cleaning supplies, was a seemingly empty room. It was unremarkable in every way. Cream-colored paint was chipping from the walls. The floor consisted of dull grey tiles that likely hadn't been cleaned since they were put there, and a dingy circle of red and yellow that was supposed to be rug. He stood there at the room's entrance, observing as the human stepped onto the rug.

"You comin' or not? What's up with you today?" His voice was practically dripping with annoyance, though his expression didn't match the tone. No, that expression revealed a level of concern one friend would have for another.

"Yeah, sorry. Hardly got any sleep last night."

The moment Sans set foot on the rug, the human stepped on a particularly worn part of it. He heard a click.

"It happens," said his new coworker with some degree of relief.

The floor began to descend.


	9. Learning a Little at a Time

Chapter Nine: Learning a Little at a Time

Of all the things our protagonist had been expecting, this little surprise hadn't been on that list. The lights in his eye sockets went dark as the rug and floor surrounding it moved. It wasn't long before the glow above them grew faint. The tiles beneath their feet passed a shadowy recess in the otherwise smooth stone. There was one on either side, and the harsh lighting that shone from them a heartbeat later succeeded in blinded him momentarily. Sans dared to glance at the human, who'd become engrossed with his phone. The skeleton felt the final remnants of sleepiness leave him, as they encountered another set of lights. He brought back the pinpoints of white to his eye sockets and removed the other Sans' phone from his pocket.

He shifted whilst feigning distraction, supporting most of his weight with one leg. He held the stance as he scrolled through the various apps on the screen, then switched to the other leg. Keeping watch on the human, he exhaled heavily, looking upwards with the most impatient expression he could muster. Words swirled around in the forefront of his mind. He kept silent. His question was about the day before him. He was unsure of whether or not he was meant to know the exact to-do list, and had already aroused suspicion. The human seemed convinced of his cover story, however, he reflected with a few taps of the screen. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt anything to ask.

"So, what's on the agenda today?"

The human glanced at him, then struggled to remember. "Uh, I gotta few things to catch up on from yesterday, a new project I gotta get started on, research, an' a meetin' at four. You?"

Well, that didn't work.

"The usual."

The expression turned to amusement, "just another day at th' office fer you, huh?"

He felt eyes fixated on him. "Heh. Yeah. Just another normal day. Doing normal things."

The human chuckled in response, adjusting the position of a pen in his shirt pocket. "Welp. Have fun. Try not t' die; remember you promised you'd help me on Friday."

It was Sans' turn to stare. "I'll try to stay alive 'til then."

The platform came to a halt at the end of a short, dimly-lit hallway. "You better. Imma need yer expertise."

They walked together to a set of over-sized metallic doors. The doors moved to either side as the human and monster approached. Beyond them, Sans discovered what appeared to be the central hub of whatever organization this was. The room was massive and shaped like a dome. Lights glared down from the ceiling, curved with it, and appeared to have been randomly arranged in their installment. The wall seemed to be made of or covered by narrow panels of steel, the pattern broken only by the various doors and the dirty, pale grey stone far above their heads. People hurried along the off-white tiles of the floor, intent on their own tasks. Among those he saw were many dressed in a similar fashion to the unknown human beside him. They were not the only ones there, however.

Among those garbed in simple, professional clothing were also a number of guards. He saw near equal amounts of human and monster dressed in black and armed to the teeth. A small group rushed by the large circular desk at the room's center, carrying what looked horrendously similar to guns. He stood motionless, asking himself what in the multiverse his brother had gotten him into.

"Be careful out there," said the human as he departed, and an invisible force gripped Sans' soul.

Was he meant to be one of the guards? What were they even for? Who did they battle? It sank in that he was alone in a world far different from his, without magic, therefore likely expected to know how to fight without it. He took a deep breath, unaccustomed to this feeling stirring within.

"Sans!"

A new human approached him, her bright golden hair reflecting all the light it could. She practically ran towards him, a look of sheer panic prevalent on her features. He took a few steps in her direction before she reached him. She held a tablet, which she glanced at every few seconds, and must have detected his confusion.

"What? Don't tell me you had another run in with one of those... _creatures_ that screw with memories. Y'know, even if you did, you should remember your own assistant! We've known each other for what, eight years? Nine? Twenty billion?"

"I, uh-"

"You know what, we don't have time. Just come with me. I'll fill you in."

What was he to do but listen? She lead the way, her pace quick enough that he practically had to jog to keep up with her. He followed this new unknown human across the room and through a door at the other end. She navigated the maze of hallways with ease. He struggled to memorize the layout of this place whilst listening to her words.

"Okay, so I'm your assistant. My name's Kira, and I help you keep track of everything. You're late, so we're behind on things. Firstly today is a Keter Class in Marblewood. There have been reports of this goat-like creature stalking the campers, sometimes eating them, sometimes just hunting them for sport, sometimes ripping their butts off. After that, some paranormal investigators went missing a few weeks ago and the public's getting suspicious. Definitely needs your attention today, whether you find the bodies or not. Then-"

"Kira? I uh," he paused for a moment, unsure. "Didn't sleep too great last night. Let's just deal with one thing at a time."

She came to a sudden stop, turning to stare at him as though he'd just grown a second head.

"Are you okay?"

"Just not feeling like myself today."

"Hm. You're even talking differently," she said mostly to herself.

Despite being a more analytical person, Sans knew when to trust a gut feeling. His instincts screamed not to let anyone here find out who he really was. He couldn't place why, but knew better than to ignore it. Kira eyed him suspiciously, his mind searching desperately for some kind of cover story, something he could say to explain his behavior.

With a deep breath, he put on the best show he could, with the information he had. "An' ya know what? Didn't even get any coffee earlier. Machine's plotting against me or somethin', just like the cat."

"Cat's out to get you still?" She had relaxed somewhat at the familiarity, though not completely.

"Th' cat's _always _been out to get me. Tried to trip me while I was walking down the stairs." Forcing a bit of annoyance into his tone, he said, "so I'm not exactly in the best mood."

There was a pause, then, "okay. Goat thing first. Keter Class. You _do_ remember enough to know what I'm talking about, right?"

"Of course I do."

Of course he didn't.

oOo

**This isn't the SCP Foundation exactly, but heavily inspired by it~**


	10. A Walk in the Woods

Chapter Ten: A Walk in the Woods

It was after a short montage of frantic preparation, that Sans found himself in the back of an unmarked van with a team of guards. A few irritated words were enough to silence them, which served as both a convenience and a troublesome bit of information. He was careful to keep up his facade while processing the knowledge he'd gained. A goat-like creature had been stalking people in the woods. The fact that it existed was not to be made public, nor had any actions been taken to keep people from encountering the creature, and learning of its violent tendencies. No, that would arouse suspicion. He'd been tossed a large weapon and told to hurry. He'd been told that the team couldn't leave without him. They had questioned his lateness.

He'd risked firing back an ireful response, claiming that he hadn't slept, hadn't had any coffee, and was in no mood for any unnecessary conversation. They didn't dare speak, not even to each other. In a way, it amused him. How must this scene look? A small skeleton garbed in comfortable clothes more suitable for dreaming, sitting in the midst of a team of seasoned fighters too nervous to make "eye" contact. On the other hand, this meant he was a rather respected member of this unknown organization. He was expected to act as a leader to these people; he couldn't even hold this weird gun for more than a few seconds before it felt too heavy.

So its tip rested on the floor. He propped an arm up on the other end of it, and rested his head on his hand. His eye sockets wandered to the sneakers he'd hastily donned on the way out of the house. Untied shoelaces. He should probably fix that.

He would eventually come to stare at Other Sans' phone, watching the minutes slip by. With each one that passed, his soul pulsed ever so faintly quicker. The reality of the situation was settling into his mind, and something told him these unpleasant, uneasy feelings wouldn't soon be leaving him. He hadn't signed up for this crap. He decided that his revenge would be far worse than any maple syrup shenanigans. He took to brainstorming to pass the time.

_A little glue can go a long way…._

OoOoO

"Uh oh."

"What?"

"Maybe you should see this."

"..."

"Alphys?"

"O-oh my gosh, what happened? What happened to the s-stupid rock?"

"I don't know. The system just…. Stopped picking up its signal."

"That was our only t-tangible link to the- it- I- oh-"

"Okay, okay, calm down. We haven't lost contact with that dimension entirely, right?"

"Yeah, so it's fine! It's okay! Don't worry. Nothing to panic about."

_Beep!_

_Beep!_

_Beep!_

_Beep!_

"C-c-can I panic now?"

"…. Yeah."

"I don't get it. It worked with the watermelon."

OoOoO

"So whacha think?"

The footprints vaguely resembled Toriel's feet, had Toriel been around twice the size of Asgore and horrendously mutated. They were joined by over-sized hoof prints. There existed three deep gashes in a nearby tree trunk, undoubtedly put there by a set of deadly claws. He stared at the impressions with an expression of mild interest as he attempted to put together some form of plan.

With a shrug, he said, "let's go catch this thing."

"By 'catch' I assume you mean blow its head off…. Right?"

At that question, he replied, "yeah. Yeah. Left its footprints behind, so all we gotta do 's follow 'em for now."

He hadn't a clue as to whether or not that was a typical Sans-of-this-world plan of action, or if the guards were simply too afraid of him to question it. They avoided looking directly at him for longer than a second or two, making it a challenge to read their faces. Papyrus had spoken of frail nerves; a jumpy, paranoid nature. Other Sans must be confident with some things, or at the least, aggressive, to make these people act in such a way. Perhaps she had misunderstood her brother's behavior. Perhaps he was a strange mix of timid and terrifying. Either way, now wasn't exactly the time to be dwelling on such matters.

Sans lead the way, attempting to mimic their stance with the weapon. His soul pulsed with a foreign energy, which surged throughout his body. He'd never fought without magic before; there had never been a need. The closest thing he'd ever come to it was wrestling with his brother when they were kids, and the devious little snot had stolen the last cookie. His one HP condition wasn't the death sentence that many believed it to be. It _did _mean that caution was in order for any fight he found himself in, however, and that singular point of health wouldn't leave his mind as the group crept through the forest.

Blades of sunlight penetrated the forest canopy. Dead leaves littered the ground here and there, among the vibrant undergrowth. Grass grew in patches, a deep green with specks of white where little flowers had sprouted. The ground was damp, though not overly so, and their surroundings were alive with the songs of the wildlife. Birds chirped to one another. The breeze carried the shrill calls of insects as well as the scent of vegetation. The creature wasn't around here.

His arms were aching from holding this blasted piece of metal. The tip kept grazing the dirt and half-buried tree roots. He studied it periodically, attempting to piece together how the damn thing worked. He'd never seen a gun up close, but was certain they weren't supposed to have so many little switches and dials. As the group trekked onward, he began to feel ridiculous. He was Sans. He didn't do this.

Guns weren't his thing. Fighting wasn't his thing. Hunting down violent creatures in parallel universes wasn't his thing. He much preferred a quiet evening in his lab, working on whatever project he'd deemed worth his time. From pancake-making robots to a formula that turned nearly anything into ketchup, science was something that came naturally. It was something that he either understood, or could learn. The most violence he'd ever witnessed from such things were explosions due to unstable chemicals. Explosions one could run from, shield themselves from, and after that slit-second event had taken place, that was it. Sans liked situations that he could think his way out of. Things that made sense.

Fighting was chaos. It was unpredictable. No matter the training, one could still lose.

He halted with the sudden realization that the woods had gone quiet.


	11. And Now… A Battle in the Woods

**!Slight gore warning!**

Chapter Eleven: And Now…. A Battle in the Woods

He stood, frozen, in the midst of the sea of trees. The footprints had grown deeper, fresher, and no longer existed in a lone trail but many of various directions. Their target was close. He felt his soul pounding, thrumming so loudly in his skull that the others must've heard it. They didn't say a word. His vision darted around from one shadow to the next. The weapon in his hands remained bulky and foreign, but the heaviness had vanished.

"Spread out," he began. "But don't get too f-"

A roar. Feet pounding against the earth so harshly that it shook.

He turned toward the sound just in time to glimpse the creature. A blurry shape leaped high above the group. They scattered. It landed with a thud, sending dirt flying about. The ground quaked beneath his feet. He stumbled, turning to see the being pull its limbs from the impressions its landing had made. Short, hollow noises filled the air. He saw the weapons firing in the corners of his sight. A flash of green, one after the other in quick succession.

Its hind legs were those vaguely similar to Toriel's. Its forelimbs boasted hooves twice the size of his head. Atop the quadrupedal body was a humanoid torso, covered with dark, matted fur. It swung a four-fingered hand. He couldn't see past the creature's hulking form, but heard an awful tearing sound that immediately made him nauseous.

He watched smoke rise from its fur where the flashes of green hit. The attacks hardly affected the thing. It lowered its head and charged. It halted and raised its head. A writhing body impaled by one of its crooked horns. He realized as he stood there that the world had gone quiet, save for the frantic pounding of his soul. He saw the others calling out to one another, words spewing from them that he couldn't register. The creature swung its massive head, sending the guard flying past him. The human looked dazed. There was a hole in her stomach large enough to see through. Sans watched the thin streams of blood flow outward from the wound. He saw the leaves on a bush at the other end of the clearing.

Screeching, panicked thoughts tore through his consciousness: _The guns aren't working! Why aren't they working? __What do I do?_

It turned its attention to him. A scarlet droplet fell from its muzzle. The drop fell, and fell, glistening. It fell past the dark, matted fur. It fell past the bloodied claws. It fell, gleaming like a morbid star. It fell, then disappeared into the upturned chunks of damp, sticky dirt.

Something took hold of him.

There wasn't an exact term for the feeling, but he likened it to instinct. Whatever the case, he found the air he'd been lacking. Sound returned, deafening. He snapped back to reality. He dove out of the way of the creature's charge. Rolling, he got to his feet in an instant. An idea sprung to mind. It was risky, but it was all he had to work with. The being towered above everyone there. He needed some way of getting to its head. He'd never ran so fast in his life. Eye sockets darting from one option to the next, he spotted a viable perch. The remaining members of the team grouped up around him.

"Th' hell's goin' on with our guns?"

"I dunno. Cover me."

They were quick to obey. He hurried along the edges of the glade, over trampled foliage. He ran, not bothering to hold the weapon properly. He dragged it all the way to the tree. Shots fired again and again behind him. The creature roared. There was a _snap _and a pained yelp. It was an awkward climb. He dragged himself upward by sturdy vines. He hardly noticed the weight of the weapon. He pulled himself from one branch to the next, and the next. The goal was just close enough. He shoved the piece of metal over the branch and heaved his skeletal form upward. Once in place, it was time to act.

He turned every switch and dial to the highest setting. A moment of silence overtook the scene. He whistled. Don't ask how a skeleton managed to whistle. It's not important.

The creature turned to him.

It charged, slamming its shoulder into the tree trunk. He nearly fell. It reached for him, finding that its arms weren't quite long enough. Its jaws parted. A roar pounded against his skull. His moment to strike. Now; before it reared, or jumped up to reach him. He prayed this would work.

He shoved the gun's tip into the being's gaping mouth, and pulled the trigger. Then he released, and pulled it again. And again. Farther and farther down he pushed the metal. He stopped counting how many times he fired. Flashes of green assaulted his vision over and over until he saw nothing, and his arms were numb from the weapon's recoil. He retreated backwards, barely regaining his balance in time. If that didn't kill the creature, he didn't know what would.

Something slammed into the earth. A retched odor attacked his lack of a nose. Over the sizzling and popping of fried flesh, he heard victorious cheering. He leaned back against the tree, finding the contraption in his hands too heavy to hold. He let it fall, panting, a faint dizziness disconnecting him from reality. Sans gazed forward without truly seeing. His clouded thoughts told him he should descend. He found in these moments however, that his limbs were far too weak to move more than a few inches at a time.

His soul gradually calmed. It pulsed with a form of satisfaction he couldn't quite understand; he hadn't the energy to question it. This had only been the first task of what was sure to be a long day. He knew that with such information, dread should be his reaction. He figured it likely would be before long, and the tame sense of elation settling over him was due to his survival. Yet, as his senses again returned to him and he regained some strength, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to it.

_Later, _he thought. _I'll think about it later._


	12. Mistake

**I.D.'s Fantasy: Thank you! :D**

**Bit of a calmer chapter here, after that madness~**

Chapter Twelve: Mistake

One after another, Sans had found himself thrown into a number of situations. Scarcely had he had the chance to take a breath before he wound up in the shadowy halls of a decrepit mansion. After facing phantoms nothing like Napstablook, there had been a velociraptor to take care of, with effective guns. Then came bigfoot hunting; the search ended in failure. A circular area produced an anti-gravity field as well as rabid ferrets. Now alone in "his" office, he sank into the chair with an exhausted sigh.

He checked the phone. One thirty.

"You gotta be kidding me."

He wasn't sure how much time he would have to himself. Judging by Kira's behavior, he had a little while. His aching feet were thankful for that. At long last he could sit and think, though it didn't escape him that he was expected to be productive with this time. Staring at the black computer screen, he noticed a bit of a distant look in his reflected features. To be expected, with all he'd witnessed in the past morning. He needed a break. He needed a nap. Staring at the phone, he debated setting a ten-minute timer and sneaking in some much needed sleep. Kira barged in with a paper bag bearing the logo of some restaurant he didn't recognize.

"Brought you some lunch," she said, hastily placing it on the desk before leaving.

Oh yeah, he needed to eat.

It was in this moment that he realized how hungry he was. No use trying to nap when anyone could walk in and question it, anyway. So he dumped the bag's contents, and could tell immediately that the food was cold and stale. He cared little for that detail. Sans shoved a handful of fries into his mouth. He took a bite of the burger and squirted a ketchup packet on top of it. His eye sockets wandered about the room. It was simple, neatly organized, and he wondered how Other Sans found the time to keep it that way. The desk held a computer setup and tiny wire basket of pens. The walls were a pale yellow, barren. A familiar scent found his not-nose, whilst he stared blankly at the multiple filing cabinets.

Another bite of food, which he promptly spat out. Pickles. Stale, disgusting pickles. Glaring at the burger, he dropped it on the desk to locate the offenders. He picked off the green discs someone had dumped onto one side of the sandwich. He tossed them nonchalantly, too tired to care about cleanliness.

As he ate, he thought of the strange sensation from earlier. What was that force resembling instinct, that had saved him more than once now? Fighting was chaos. It was unpredictable. No matter the training, one could still lose. Or _win_. The latter was highly improbable without the right preparations, and there was no way his survival could be attributed to luck. Nor was his mind entirely to thank. Much as he would've loved to reach that conclusion. No, he had been frozen in place, unable to act in the slightest. He'd never seen such a beast, let alone been faced with the task of killing one. Yet something had gripped his soul, steadied it. Allowed him the mental clarity to formulate a plan. It happened with the goat thing. It happened with the ghosts. It happened with the ferrets. Not with bigfoot, as he never did get to see one, but that was beside the point. Fear wasn't what brought it about; he'd been excited to see a dinosaur. Whatever this was however, it seemed to be consistently triggered.

Leaning back as far as the chair would allow, his arms hung limply, dangling while he again imitated the final calls of a dying whale. After a few moments in this position, he allowed the last bite of food to fall to the off-white tiles below. Forcing his attention to the computer, he booted up the device. He yawned as he waited. A beep and a faint humming droned through the air. He tapped his fingers on the desk.

_Welcome, Agent_

_Password:_

"Ah, crap."

Would asking Kira be suspicious?

An idea manifested, which he considered worth a try. Grabbing the car keys from a well-organized drawer, he shoved them into his pocket and headed for the room's exit. He ambled over to the door, reached for the knob, and halted. Again came the unspoken voice telling him to keep his identity a secret from these people, and Other Sans wouldn't leave such a mess behind. He reluctantly picked up the discarded foodstuffs and garbage. He wiped off the desk with his shirt and turned the computer back off. The room presentable, he left it without issue.

It wasn't until he'd nearly made it to the exit that Kira stopped him.

"Where are you going?"

"Takin' the rest of th' day off. I'll catch up on everything tomorrow."

"You're…. What?" She could hardly believe what she was hearing, blinking as though she expected to wake herself from a dream.

He feigned impatience. "Can't think straight. Probably th' ghosts; about four of 'em tried t' possess me."

"Th-you…. You need to see a doctor!"

She took his arm and began to practically drag him across the hub. His eye sockets went dark. He silently cursed, loathing his lack of information, as well as the foreboding feeling in his soul. He pulled his arm from her hand more harshly than he'd intended and put on his most terrifying glare. She appeared unfazed by the expression, and clenched his wrist before he could utter a single word. He struggled to free himself again, finding that her grip had become inescapable. He repeated his explanation (as changing his story wouldn't help) whilst the human dragged him into a new set of hallways. He felt eyes burning into the back of his skull as he was taken from the room.

The dried blood here and there didn't soothe his nerves.

This section of the structure was much more heavily protected. Metal everything, and all of it dull and dirty in appearance despite the many cleaners they passed. Many of the doors looked to be password protected, leading him to wonder how many of them he was meant to know. The panels glowed various colors and portrayed symbols he didn't recognize. Some sections of wall held windows here and there, views into rooms full of injured fighters. He didn't stare long at the horrific scenes, only just enough to see what he wished he hadn't. His unseen stomach threatened to spill its contents. He shuddered, wordlessly calling to the unseen force.

_*You called for help_


	13. A New Mystery

**Me: okay brain, we're NOT gonna take on too many projects... okay?**

**Brain: okie dokie! Just gonna do this, and this, and this, and this, and this, and this...**

Chapter Thirteen: A New Mystery

Something flickered within his soul, an echo of an echo of the unknown force. With enough practice, he concluded upon their arrival, he should be able to summon it at will. Despite his efforts however, it did not manifest in these precious moments. He looked around at the simple setup about them. Had Sans not known any better, he would've believed this a typical room in a doctor's office. An exhausted human looked up at their unexpected entrance. He called once more to the force, hoping against logic that it would come and assist.

_*You called for help_

_*But nobody came_

"Hey. What-"

"Sans is sick!"

"No, I'm no-"

"He needs immediate medical attention immediately!"

The doctor glanced at him before replying, "you said 'immediate' twice. An' he looks okay t' me."

"But he was about to leave. _Early_!" Kira had released his wrist to gesture at him with both hands as though it would prove her point.

A suspicious look from the doctor, but a tired one. Perhaps he could talk his way out of this. "Ya ever have a bunch of ghosts try t' posses you? After almost _no_ sleep, an' _no _coffee? My brain's like mashed potatoes."

"But-but-"

"Kira, ya ever have t' sew a person's butt back on? Exhaustin'. I'm tired. You look tired. Everybody's tired. Let's let 'im go get some rest."

"But," said Kira much louder than needed, still flailing her arms about in Sans' direction. A sigh, as she let them fall to her sides. Then, "will you at least give him a checkup or something? He never leaves early. Ever."

"Guess it can't hurt, jus t' make sure." To the skeleton he said, "c'mere."

With little choice, he complied, hoping the doctor had washed up after that whole butt sewing thing. The gloves looked clean, but still.

After the usual checkup procedures, the human removed an odd handheld device from a drawer. Sans remained still whilst he was apparently scanned for who-knew-what, taking note of each subtle change in the doctor's expression. When at last the device was aimed at his chest, it emitted a high pitched chirping so loud that it hurt the ears he didn't even have. The humans took on a look of pure shock, which quickly dissolved into confusion for the doctor, and concern for Kira.

"Huh."

"What?"

"There's a lot more Nil in you than usual."

Well _that _answered_ so_ many questions!

Sans had the feeling that somewhere, someone was being sarcastic about something. He ignored it, asking, "so can I go now?"

The doctor gazed at him for a long moment. There was silence, save for the dripping of a faucet. Water splashed into a shallow puddle on metal.

Confusion gradually left him, and the human smiled. "Eh, probably nothin'. Jus get some rest."

"Wh- but are you sure-"

"Hey, who's th' doctor here?"

Sans excused himself as quickly as monsterly possible.

OoOoO

"Nil? What in the literal actual heck is Nil?"

The cat didn't respond. He continued pacing.

"This world was supposed to be almost identical to mine! I get here and what happens? I'm part of some secret group of anomaly hunters! This doesn't make any sense! No wonder the other me's always so stressed out. He's gotta deal with demon goats, broken physics, and an overprotective assistant. And _what the heck is Nil_? Why can't I use magic? Is Nil what they call magic here? If I have more than I'm supposed to, shouldn't that mean I _can _use it?"

The cat merely stared, watching as he pulled the stone from his pocket.

"I am _so _done with this! When I get back, I'm gonna…." Here he realized something troubling.

The stone had lost its previous, faintly pink glow. He stared, searching desperately for any reason other than the one that had instantly come to mind. The lumpy grey rock seemed to mock him. He blinked, telling himself that it was nothing, that the rock hadn't lost its link to his world. Sans firmly told himself in attempt to quell the frantic pulsing of his soul, that everything was fine.

He wordlessly shoved the stone back into his pocket.

There he stood, listening to the ticking of the clock. His smile was not genuine, his eye sockets dark. He pushed the realization to the furthest corners of his mind. Now wasn't the time to dwell on that. There was plenty to figure out about Other Sans before the next day was upon him. That was surely deserving of his focus, though he found it nearly impossible to think about. Nevertheless, he tried.

"Anyway…. I need the password to his computer. And any other passwords I might need," he told the orange feline. "Problem is: it's not gonna be anything simple and easy to guess. I doubt he wrote it down anywhere. Kira thinks I've kinda sorta lost my mind already."

Leaning against the back of the couch, he asked, "any ideas?"

A meow. She looked at him as though he _had _lost his mind.

Ignoring that, he continued. "There's something off about those guys. Dunno what. I just know they can't find out who I am. So I guess you could say I'm in a pretty _purr-carious _position."

The cat hissed, jumped down, and walked out of the room.


	14. Take Two

Chapter Fourteen: Take Two

"Doomkitty! I'm back!"

The still-unfamiliar voice awoke him from a light sleep. He checked the phone whilst Doomkitty ran to greet Papyrus. Hardly ten minutes since he'd laid down for a nap. He sat up with a yawn, resuming his attempts to make sense of his unusual predicament. He heard happy meowing following her footsteps, which came to an abrupt halt. By the feeling of her gaze burning into his skull, he guessed he wasn't meant to be back yet. She chose not to pursue the matter. She continued with her routine without comment, which he was thankful for. Sans was in no mood to defend himself anymore than he already had today.

Nor was he feeling up for _anything_ but rest. His bones were sore, now suffering the effects of his sudden exertion. They were nearly as unaccustomed to the day's activities as his mind was to sleep deprivation. Papyrus had always possessed the foul habit of keeping him awake late into the night. So true it was, that he'd forced his own wakefulness for video games or interesting projects. He'd always found the time to catch up soon afterwards. While he was no stranger to the fogginess within his head, he wasn't well-acquainted with the presence either. In this instance however, it came with a gift.

_Something like that should work for his personal stuff…. But the computers where he works…. Those are gonna be tricky._

Regardless, a plan began to take shape thanks to the extra freedom his thoughts had been granted. It wasn't a pleasant sensation however; he entered the kitchen for another soda. The caffeine would substitute proper rest for now. It had to.

"What's fer dinner?"

His attention turned to her as she ambled to the fridge. As he stepped away from it, she took a bottle of water and closed it just he noticed another shadowy hand. He pushed the image from his mind, attributing the sight to his weary senses, and struggled for an answer. He wasn't completely helpless. There were a number of dishes he could prepare well enough. Keeping himself upright was a chore, and there was a more valuable use of that time, though.

"Pizza. Where do you guys order pizza from?"

"Heckin' YES!"

"That the name of the place or-"

"Can't even _tell _you how much I need pizza after today."

Sitting down at the small kitchen table, he asked, "something happen?"

"Jus' th' usual sh- crap. People bein' butts."

Clicking as the doorknob was turned, a quick squeak, then a thud.

"I'm back y'all!"

Undyne.

He followed Papyrus through the disused dining room and stood just inside the living room. She greeted the fish monster with a hug. He found little difference in this world's version of the person he knew. Her appearance was the same over all, save for the scars dangerously close to her eye. They resembled claw marks, which in of itself didn't catch his attention nearly as much as their existence. The pair of pale blue lines couldn't have been more than a flesh wound. A deep one certainly, but nothing that magic wouldn't have been able to completely heal. No trace of such an injury should remain, which meant healing magic wasn't functional either. She had recovered naturally.

"Heeeyy, you're home early! Well, don't jus' stand there!" Before he had the chance to move, she hurried across the room and pulled him into a crushing embrace. He nearly spilled his soda. "How y'all been? Been bored without me?"

"Not exactly," he muttered as she released him.

Papyrus gave him a meaningful look, followed by: "So Undyne, our neighbor that we've known fer years, did ya have a fun time in Hawaii with yer veterinarian stuff?"

"You know I did! It was AWESOME!" She took on a familiar stance. "I rescued SO MANY animals from th' jaws of DEATH! An' when th' stupid volcano puked up s'more o' that lava, I saved MORE of 'em! 'CAUSE THAT LAVA AIN'T NO MATCH FOR ME! An' a bunch o' strays found homes when everything was settled down!"

"That's great-"

"An' I got my arm stuck in the back end of a camel."

With that image in mind, the drink spewed from his mouth. He instinctively covered his teeth with his free hand as he struggled against laughter.

Papyrus blinked at her. "What'sa camel doin' in Hawaii?"

"I dunno," said Undyne with a shrug.

OoOoO

Within the echo of his consciousness, he realized that something was wrong. The fractions of thought soon left him, however. Oblivion consumed his mind.

OoOoO

Alphys' hands hovered over the keyboard, shaking. Her glasses reflected the vile contents of the screen. The pale blue text didn't lie. She knew what each number meant, the words behind each acronym. Every singular piece of data pointed her to a conclusion that she understood, yet found herself unable to truly grasp. She'd checked everything time and time again. She'd commanded the system to reconnect, to no avail. The stone had been so thoroughly imbued with magic; how in the multiverse could this have come to pass? How, she asked herself again and again, could something so magically charged lose its hold?

"We might have to let everyone know. His brother, at least."

She jumped at Ivy's voice, then replied: "I-I know. It-it's-I…. I'm just…. Not r-ready to yet. I don't…. I-I don't know how." She turned to the human. "We…. Didn't really prepare for this."

"We've got a few days to see if we can figure something out," said Ivy, handing her a cup of tea. "But we have to prepare. For…. Well, you know. In case we can't. Yet," her new friend hastily added.

"Yeah. I-I know. What…. What are we gonna do if-if it takes a little while? W-we can't just leave o-other Sans like that. Not-not for a long stretch of t-time." The sweet scent of the tea didn't calm her frayed nerves.

Ivy shrugged. "If it comes to that, we'll just have to wake him up and go from there."

OoOoO

Wrong, wrong, wrong. Something was _wrong_!

Something….

Something…. Was….

OoOoO

Sans had found himself without proper supplies for the task. This house's basement held no laboratory, and scarce were the useful objects he _had _come across. He'd scavenged what he could without arousing suspicion. He'd gathered every tool he would need, and begun his work at the stroke of midnight.

The garbage bin filled with aluminum, the empty cans eventually littering the floor beside it. The lamp served as his only illumination, sending forth a beam of light upon his attempt at invention. His movements were weighed by exhaustion. So often his hand would slip and send tiny parts flying. His eye sockets itched, and the dull blanket of pain plaguing his bones only worsened as the clock ticked on. He fumbled with a collection of wires. He reached for another can of soda. His hand found nothing more than a dampened spot on the carpet.

Exploration revealed no extra cases of the beverage. Glaring at the coffee maker, he stumbled his way over to the appliance. He got it working after trial and error. He set an alarm, laid his head on the table, and closed his eye sockets.

"Wake up or I'll kill you!"

The smell filled his lack of a nose. He dragged himself to the coffee, poured himself a cup, and took a sip. Just as disgusting as he recalled, and the liquid seared his magic-made throat. He waited for it to cool whilst mixing in some sugar and creamer. The taste having grown bearable, Sans downed the beverage and prepared himself another cup.

His soul pulsed strangely and suddenly as the fuel coursed through him. He took a few deep breaths. Wakefulness having returned in full swing, he returned to his mission.

The night brought with it a kind of stillness he didn't recognize until chirping shattered the quiet. The few nocturnal insect calls he'd heard had vanished. He barely had the chance to adjust to the change before Other Sans' morning alarm sounded. He leaned back with a sigh to gaze disapprovingly at the device he had constructed. It was perhaps, the sloppiest-looking machine he'd ever cobbled together.

The laptop was off completely, which shouldn't be an issue. He plugged his invention into the PC, pressed a few re-purposed buttons on the ancient calculator, and waited.

Across the tiny sliver of a screen appeared: _j8OOo0kL9_

A try confirmed that it was indeed, the password to the laptop.

His eye sockets were aglow with pride. It didn't even bother him that it was the dawn of a new, hectic day.


	15. A Glimpse Into Another's Life

Chapter Fifteen: A Glimpse Into Another's Life

Sans hadn't been expecting the insect entrails to be so thoroughly removed from his clothes. He'd been pleasantly surprised to find them so clean, once he was finished scrubbing himself, images of the experience yet flashing before his eye sockets. He shuddered as he sat down at the desk. Never did he _ever _want to see another roach, and especially none of that size. It'd swallowed him. He dared not think of his escape.

A fresh cup of coffee sat on the wood, put there several moments prior by Kira. He observed the wisps of steam dance their way upward. He blinked, willing himself to remember what it was that he'd forgotten. He reached for the cup and took a careful sip. Unpleasant, but bearable. Too hot to properly drink. He rested his head on his hands and stared at nothing, waiting for his caffeinated fuel to reach a consumable temperature. How could something smell so delightful and be such a chore to deal with?

His vision focused, bringing his attention to his reflection on the computer screen. Tiny fractions of thought sparked within his mind, not strong enough to last. He felt his eye sockets closing. He struggled momentarily before losing that fight. He forced them open.

Coffee.

He reached for the cup, no longer with regard for taste or heat. Sans drank half of the beverage and returned it to its place, coughing. It again crossed his mind to be of increased caution. He wouldn't have any form of healing magic to rely on when something threatened to steal his one HP again. He stared at the cup. His eventual conclusion was that finishing the liquid wouldn't harm his throat much more than it already had. He consumed the rest. He tossed the cup into the garbage can and leaned back in his seat, waiting for the caffeine's effects.

Something occurred to him.

*Act

*Check

He stared, eye sockets wide open. Nothing was there. No amount of useful information appeared in his vision. What remained of his stats were mere fragments of white, blinking in and out of reality. His gaze remained fixated, trying as well as he could to piece together what he saw. His attempts proved fruitless. He allowed the image to disappear. The skeletal monster saw the world through a haze. The dull yellow of the wall blended faintly with the grey filing cabinets and the off-white floor tiles. He saw without seeing, the dark wooden desk and the computer monitor.

Why couldn't he view his stats? How was he to know if he'd gained EXP from all those battles, or perhaps LV? How was he to know if he still had a single point of health, or half of one? How could it be that such an integral part of sentient life was gone? Long overdue questions began to plague his mind. Was the display some form of magic? Were the anomalous beings to blame? Could this be a side effect of his sleep-deprivation? Whatever the case, he had lost access to valuable facts that had always been readily available to him.

He took a deep, shaky breath. No need to be so nervous. He could figure this out.

His soul pulsed strongly as the world returned, and he suddenly remembered his device. He retrieved it from the back of a drawer as he watched the door for any sign of movement. He plugged his invention into the computer, and prayed it was discrete enough to bypass all security measures. He pressed a few buttons on the calculator. He kept his eye sockets on the door as the machine got to work. The air felt heavy in his magic-made lungs, coffee scent lingering. There was a click.

_0111000001000001011100110111001101110111010011110101001001000100_

The numbers scrolled across the little screen, repeating. He doubted this was it. With little choice however, he gave it a try, carefully typing the order of ones and zeros into the password input. He double checked and triple checked, then checked twice more. A single failure likely wasn't enough for alarm; better to be safe than sorry. He tapped the enter key with another deep breath.

_Welcome, Agent Gaster_

That text, accompanied by a spinning circle of light, brought instantaneous relief. A low humming drifted softly through the air as the screen faded to black. It was quick to reveal a perplexing scene. A grey circle at the center of an indigo background. A pair of eyes existed within its border, and beyond it, triangles pointing inward from every angle. Just as he registered the symbol, numerous icons appeared across it. Sans sat back, only now realizing he'd been at the edge of his seat. He put the device back in its hiding place, and in his best "hacker voice" whispered, "I'm in."

Among other things displayed on the taskbar, was an envelope with a blinking blue light. He clicked it. A window appeared, showing him a number of unread messages. Several at the bottom looked to be confirmation mails, informing Other Sans that the recipient had read and approved of his mission reports. He opened one of the few that differed.

_Agent Gaster,_

_This message is a reminder of your requested assistance with anomalous object project #588049 "Stormwalkers" at 11:00 AM two weeks from today. Please report to the coordinates provided at the specified time._

_-ATTF Council Alpha 4_

He took note of the coordinates, as well as the date. He opened another message.

_All ATTF personnel: A few matters have been brought to our attention. This message is to address them in order of importance._

_1: All creatures of the "Scourge" category, including those of all subcategories, are to be eliminated on sight. They can and will do everything in their power to deceive you, but these creatures are not harmless in any sense of the word. They present a danger to all lifeforms and should be dealt with accordingly._

_2: All citizens who witnessed an anomalous entity or event and retained their memory of it have been taken care of. The methods we use in order to erase a citizen's memory are under review. We hope to find a more reliable method or improve current ones within the next several months._

_3: We are the Anomalous Threats Task Force, not "A Terribly Threatening Fart"_

_-ATTF Council_

Despite it all, he chuckled at the mention of farts.

_Agent Gaster,_

_We are aware of the apparent sabotage your team suffered during the elimination of the entity in Marblewood. Investigation is ongoing._

_-ATTF Council Alpha 4_

"What, no 'congratulations on not dying'?"

He closed the program, then clicked the lower left corner of the screen. Noticing a tiny picture of Other Sans, he clicked it, and up popped a window displaying the agent's profile. According to the text, he was of the rank Beta 12, and had been a member of this task force for many years. He had joined them at a young age, having caught their attention with his affinity for the unusual. The info told of his training as a field agent. He'd shown prowess in more than that, however. His status had heightened over time, and his rank changed. Now he did nearly anything and everything due to his acquired skills.

Aside from these more basic details, he found little in terms of his lookalike. The picture was a bit easier to make out now; it told him far more. Portrayed was the face of a happy skeleton. The permanent smile was genuine, the pinpoints of light glowing brightly as the stars. The expression was one of certainty and exhilaration. This person was nothing like Papyrus' description. No trace of stress existed upon those features. He sighed with the conclusion of this picture being an old one. Had the passage of time withered away that drive and confidence?

Where had all that enthusiasm gone?


	16. The Clock Keeps Ticking

Chapter Sixteen: The Clock Keeps Ticking

Sans awoke to an abode shrouded in shadow. He detected the muffled chirping of insects. He shifted, releasing a groan at the fresh waves of pain assaulting his bones; his arms trembled as he tried to push himself upright. He failed. His face hit the cushion whilst he questioned what day it was. Had he missed a workday? Had his couch coma only lasted until an obscenely late hour? His dying whale impression grew better and better. He braced himself for another attempt. With a repeat groan, he dragged his arms into position. His limbs worked sluggishly to heave him upward. By the end of an agonizing battle, he'd managed to sit up. Panting faintly, he caught the lingering scent of something burnt.

Checking the phone revealed that he hadn't missed a day. It was nearly the start of one, however. There would be little point in trying to sleep any longer. He knew that missing a day of work was a potentially dangerous idea. A part of him stubbornly encouraged it in spite of logic. Dread weighed his soul at the thought what was ahead. How was he to survive another mutated goat, another over-sized insect? Rubbing the edges of his eye sockets, he pulled himself to the edge of the couch. His legs could barely support him.

Movement became easier once it began. He stumbled into the kitchen. Leaning against the counter, he stared at the coffee maker. It was after a few sleepy blinks that he decided to hold off on the caffeine for now. His gaze wandered over to the stove top, to charred pieces of something in a frying pan. Papyrus must've cooked her own dinner.

With little else to do, he decided to freshen up. He dragged himself to the stairs. He gave them a venomous look before crawling up to the second floor. He didn't pause to catch his breath, much to his body's dismay. Grabbing some clean clothes along the way, he trudged into the bathroom. Light flooded the room with a click. He stood blinking at the shower head and immediately switched his plan to a bath. He turned only the knob with an "H" and placed the stone on the vanity. He made every attempt not to look at the thing, and noticed something interesting in doing so. Sitting on the toilet, he picked up the small bag to examine its text. Epsom salt. He emptied the bag's contents into scalding liquid.

OoOoO

"Hey, yer up."

"Kinda."

"An' you made coffee," said Papyrus while stumbling across the room, Doomkitty at her heels.

"Mm-hm."

The front door opened and closed. Scarcely had he registered the noise before Undyne jogged in. Her sharp teeth glinted, her smile unnaturally wide. Sans looked up at her, barely able to keep his eye sockets open. The fish monster's gaze radiated a form of energy that neither skeleton could comprehend at the time. She greeted them cheerfully, doing a series of stretches in the middle of the kitchen. Papyrus merely joined him at the table with her filled coffee mug.

"Today's feelin' like a great day! Ain't today just feelin' like it'll be a great day? I think so!"

Had looks been able to kill, she would've died twice over.

He reluctantly lifted his head from his arm in a struggle for wakefulness. A glance at Papyrus told him this was typical behavior of Undyne, but no less baffling or annoying. He sighed and downed most of his caffeine. Papyrus took a careful sip of hers. They watched their neighbor proceed to do several one-armed push ups. He counted twenty before she switched to the other arm, cheery smile remaining the whole time.

At last he whispered, "what's wrong with her?"

A shrug. "I ain't gotta clue."

"Whacha say?"

"Nothing," they claimed in unison.

OoOoO

Another day had come and gone. Still no sign of his possible return to his world. Pieces of information swirled around in his head. Surprising even to him, he found himself unable to focus only on the totally-not-broken link. He thought also of the dangerous anomalies, the instinct he couldn't quite place, and what he'd managed to learn about this version of Earth.

Sans stared blankly at the road, some part of him wondering how he hadn't crashed. He manifested each thought just long enough to make the necessary maneuvers. His mind was otherwise preoccupied by clouded fragments of knowledge. He noticed in the corner of his vision, a group of humans and monsters walking along together. The two races intermingled with such ease, which he now understood was due to a major difference this planet held: There had been no human/monster war. It made sense. How could the ancient denizens of this world have fought with one another, when supernatural threats were present for all? They had banded together quickly, the true reason of course being lost to the general public.

The twenty fifth cup of coffee was wearing off. He yawned upon stopping at a traffic light. Somehow, he had made it through another day. He attributed such to caffeine and the unknown force. He remained unable to summon the effects of either. Given the choice, he would've picked the energy burst provided by that disgusting drink. His curiosity was no match for his tiredness.

By the time of his arrival, the sun had sank almost completely into the horizon. He might have taken the time to enjoy such a wondrous image. It was unlikely to ever become so familiar that he took it for granted. Alas, there was food to be cooked, a report to finish typing up, and a bit of cleaning to be done. He pushed the stone from his mind. Everything would be all right. He told himself that it loosing its glow meant nothing. So he ignored the beautiful blend of colors in the sky, and pulled into the garage. By noon tomorrow, he would be in his room with a game and a bottle of ketchup.

So what if he was in a state of denial? He much preferred it to the truth.

"Heya," he said to Papyrus and her cat upon his entrance to the living room.

Her eye sockets were glued to the television as she replied, "hey."

The orange feline meowed at him while he struggled to kick off an uncomfortable pair of shoes. "So, uh, want anything in particular for dinner tonight?"

She shook her head. "Not really. Don't care."

He stood there on exhausted legs, eye sockets narrowed. Her voice was laced with tension. He saw only one side of her face, more than enough for him to confirm that something was wrong. She didn't look away from the screen even for a moment. The program had no ounce of her attention, however. She sat rigidly upon the soft brown cushions, staring at something beyond the confines of the TV.

"What's up?"

"Whadda ya mean?"

"Something's wrong. What happened?" He took a few steps toward the couch.

She spared him a glance before, "nothin'. I'm fine."

He collapsed onto the furniture. "Okay. Wanna tell me about what _didn't _happen?"

"Nope."

Perhaps she wasn't the type to openly speak of her problems. Perhaps it was due to the two of them meeting days prior. Regardless, he let the go of the subject. If it was important, he or Other Sans would know soon enough.

No, it _would _be Other Sans. He refused to acknowledge any other possibilty.


	17. A Number of Undetermined Factors

Chapter Seventeen: A Number of Undetermined Factors

The day began with the now-familiar death threats, the wake up routine persisting in the general manner it had been. He shared a pot of coffee with this world's version of Papyrus, the two of them united in their irritation at Undyne. He drove "his" younger sister to school and made his way to the library. It was a gloomy morning. The sun was hidden behind a thick veil of grey clouds, leaving him with little in terms of scenery. Oh well. His attention was meant to be on the road anyway.

Movement hadn't ceased to be a tiresome endeavor. It'd grown faintly easier, and for that he was thankful. Sans pulled carefully into a parking spot and checked the time. He was a few minutes early. The idea of a nap sprang to mind. Tempting as it was, he resisted sleep's beckoning call. For what must have been the hundredth time, he removed the stone from his pocket. Looking at it for the umpteenth time didn't return the pink glow it'd had. He knew what this meant. Furthermore, he now had the knowledge of why things had turned out this way. Nil, magic, was unstable here.

He shoved the stone back into his pocket, burying the problem in thoughts of the new day.

It was Friday. Even secret agents were allowed some time off, and he found himself impatient for his. It was an odd feeling, but one overshadowed by a hesitant curiosity. The human's words had lingered in the back of his mind. Today he was meant to fulfill Other Sans' promise and assist. He words had of course been too vague for him to dig up any information on the task. Much like everything leading up to this, he'd be going in blind and hoping for the best.

"Okay," he whispered with a deep breath. "Here we go."

He entered the extravagant building and didn't glance at the wealth of knowledge. He left behind the countless pages of information. He ambled through the various rooms hidden from public view. He stepped into the room of seemingly no purpose and closed the door behind. He stood upon the piece of descending floor and waited for its halt. He walked down the dark hallway to the metallic doors, putting on his best "serious face" as he did. He strode into the hub. Kira was beside him moments later.

"You have time for coffee today," she told him, and he found a cup in his hand before she finished her sentence. "You've got about forty five minutes in your office to catch up on some things. Mason said he'll stop by and you can go handle that project he's been working on. Any idea how long that will take?"

"Nope."

"Okay, well after that, there's a Euclid Class wandering around a neighborhood. It's been eating their pets, raccoon bits everywhere. Council wants that one alive. Then, there's some kind of deadly hamster thing going on in Ruby. No official category or anything, just hamsters ripping people's butts off. Then…."

He listened as they walked, taking a sip of coffee to find the taste almost pleasant. He gave the beverage a suspicious look, waiting for his chance to speak. Another try confirmed that the liquid's taste was far better than what he'd grown somewhat used to. He'd finished half the cup by the time they reached his office, and made a mental note to find out what she'd mixed in to create such a sweet variation of the dirt water.

"Th' thing Mason's workin' on. What's th' project ID number?"

She uttered the sequence quickly. He struggled to keep up, then repeated the numbers aloud to ensure he'd heard them correctly. She confirmed, and excused herself from the room before he could ask about the coffee. Some assistant! Though it was likely she believed he wanted to be alone, so he could work without distraction.

He finished the drink, tossing the empty styrofoam into the garbage bin. Sans booted up the computer, immediately looking up this "project" he was to take part in. He sat back with a yawn. The text before him appeared blurry. He made a series of zombie-like sounds whilst blinking. The words gradually came into focus.

_Anomalous Creature Project #588008: "Determination"_

_Class: Keter_

_Catagory: "Timetwist"_

Before he had the chance to read any further, the silence of the room was broken. The door opened to reveal the human as his uninvited "guest".

"Hey. Ya ready?"

"I- uh- it's kinda early, isn't it? Kira said-"

Mason interrupted him with an apologetic smile and a, "yeah, sorry 'bout that. Some stuff got rescheduled."

"Okay," he said with a shrug, and joined the human.

The fragments of information he'd attained buzzed around in his skull like an angry wasp. There was something about it, something he couldn't seem to place. Determination was a powerful force indeed, but what was "Timetwist" meant to signify? Some part of him felt he should know exactly, felt as though he _did _know. What he sought must have been a forgotten memory, beyond the boundaries of some mental wall he couldn't break through. Merely trying was enough to bring a mild fog to his already-sleepy mind. Once it receded, he concluded that whatever form of time manipulation this being possessed wouldn't be a mystery for long.

"So, hows yer week been?"

Mason's cheery expression lifted his mood to some degree. "Pretty boring. How abo- uh- how 'bout yours?"

"Mine's been kinda weird. Buncha little things mostly, but th' other day, somebody done got th' _brilliant _idea t' dump a pile o' cat poop on one of th' cafeteria tables."

This place had a cafeteria? He supposed it made sense, though found it surprising nonetheless. They'd entered a different part of the building. He failed to recognize this section of halls, leading him to wonder how vast the facility was.

Mason glanced at him as they turned a corner, grinning. "Guess y' could say it was a…. Shitty situation."

He laughed, not caring for whether or not Other Sans would find it funny. The joke had caught him off guard, and was welcomed despite the colorful language. His amusement echoed faintly in the underground maze and earned him an odd look from a passing guard. His soul felt lighter, a weight he hadn't noticed being lifted. His pupils shone brightly as he formulated a reply.

"Were ya _table _t' deal with it?"

This the human chuckled at before responding, "me? Nope. But I gotta janitor t' clean it up. There was no _odor _person for th' job!"

His laughter reverberated until he found himself short on breath. They paused for a moment as he recovered.

"You okay?" It was contagious. Now it was Mason's turn force air into his lungs. "Y-ya don't usually think those 'r so funny."

"Heh…. Yeah well, I- I guess I jus' needed that."

"I can believe it," he said as they continued their trip. "You been really on-edge lately." A few wordless breaths, before, "we better hurry up. Can't be late jus' 'cause I'm hilarious."

The closer they grew to their destination, the stronger the phantom force became. He hadn't previously been aware that something had triggered it. Upon realizing such, he spent the rest of their trip attempting to figure out what had set it off. There was nothing in these bright, barren passages to suggest any kind of threat. The instinct-like sensation coursed through him with every pulse of his soul. Still he found himself unable to place exactly what it felt like. Nevertheless, he was on high-alert by the time they arrived.


	18. Not So Heroic

Chapter Eighteen: Not So Heroic

The room was dark, save for the artificial illumination radiating from the setup across from the door. A number of ATTF members stood waiting for the two of them to arrive. Sans felt out of place among the rather official-looking scientists whose eyes were fixated upon him. He strode towards them with a confidence he did not feel, a tension woven into the air. He channeled his best acting skills, hoping and praying they didn't see through the ruse. Four pairs of eyes gazed at him for what felt like an eternity, expressions cold and deadly serious. He glanced at Mason as the human spoke. He didn't hear the words; he'd been caught off guard by the human's sudden change. Mason's expression mirrored theirs, albeit without the sharpness their stares held.

Above the console, a bright square flared to life with a loud click. A window into another room. Before he knew it, they had all turned their backs to him. The instinct that wasn't churned strongly in his chest, coursing through every fiber of his being. An unseen force gripped his soul with claws resembling knives. He chuckled quietly, as the scientists spoke with one another.

"I'm in danger," he whispered so faintly that even he could barely detect it.

With a deep breath, he joined them.

"So, whacha need me for?"

"We been tryin' t' kill this thing fer four years now. Got all th' info we can from studyin' it; now it's just a matter o' gettin' rid of th' thing."

The axolotl monster beside Mason continued, "we done tried just about everthing! But maybe you can think o' somethin' new."

"After our latest attempts fail, that is," said one of the humans.

"Okay."

"C'mere," said the human he'd been laughing with minutes ago.

Thanks to his shortness, he found it difficult to see over the console and into the barren room. It appeared to be made entirely of pale stone, with several yellow orbs embedded throughout. Few things had magic suppressing capabilities, the material of those orbs being among them. The name of it mattered not. What _was_ noteworthy however, was the number of orbs: too many. Whatever being was trapped within these walls was….

Frisk!

The lights in his eye sockets vanished at the sight below. The emaciated form slumped in the corner was only barely recognizable. He blinked, willing the scene to morph into something more acceptable. No. It wasn't this world's version of Frisk. The neglected creature squinting at the sudden light must be a demon in disguise! Those terror-filled eyes looking upwards through matted hair, they were meant to deceive. And the way it trembled, that was an act! This group didn't harm innocent people; it protected them from butt-destroying anomalies!

And yet….

_Guess that explains the bad feeling._

Sure, their knowledge of his identity wouldn't be pleasant. He'd sensed it since the beginning. Sans hadn't expected them to take kindly to the notion of being infiltrated by an otherworldly visitor. True it was, that he shared a similarity with the creatures he'd been facing, in the form of the magic in his bones. While he was unsure of previous expectations, they hadn't mirrored this scenario in any form. In hindsight, he supposed he should've seen it from a mile away. Perhaps he would have, had he not been so wrapped up in the chaos of the previous days.

Frisk was no person in their eyes. She was a thing, and a dangerous one at that. Their "project" had likely involved using her as a lab rat, experimenting with whatever powers she held before deciding they were through. For whatever reason, they hadn't been able to rid themselves of their charge. Whatever torture the human suffered this time around, it wouldn't be the first. He struggled not to retch. When had the room begun to spin?

How long had she been here, over all? How many were like her, carrying a fear like no other in their souls, hoping for an end? Just what would he face if the wrong person discovered he had more "Nil" than he was meant to?

"Looks like a kid."

"I know, right? Freaky."

A few guards entered the room below. He hoped against all forms of logic that the Frisk would turn out to be a paranormal being, some kind of non-sentient mutant, or genocidal maniac. He searched for something- _any _reason one could use to justify the actions he saw. He found nothing. Those around him gave instructions and spoke casually to one another. He couldn't pick words out from the muffled sounds, nor could he wrench his eye sockets from the events playing out. Each time they killed her, a transparent bubble appeared around her corpse as the deed was undone. Had it not been for the yellow orbs, how far would that power extend?

A vague sound, one that repeated until it grew audible.

"Sans? Y' okay?"

The not-instinct took control. Words poured from him that he didn't register. Nevertheless, they appeared to convince the people around him. The force commanded his legs to move. Sans hadn't a clue as to where they were going, nor could he convince them to halt, or at least move of his own accord. With little choice, he clung to the phantom force. He trusted it. What else could he do? It was the one in control.

OoOoO

And then, he was in his office. It relinquished its grip and retreated inwards to his soul's core. Sans waited, expecting a battle with panic, but air came easily. He was leaning back in the chair staring at his reflection in a black screen. It was as if the things he'd witnessed were nothing more than a horrible dream his mind had fabricated to torment him with. He knew it wasn't, and confusion vexed him at the odd sense of calm that had settled over him.

"This is fine," he told himself, the silence of the room consuming his voice. "This is fine."

For an instant, he glimpsed fire in the corner of his vision.


	19. A Failed Escape

Chapter Nineteen: A Failed Escape

Wrong.

Something was wrong, he knew, and the fact only grew clearer as the muffled sounds turned into words. He heard without understanding. The meanings these syllables held failed to register. He needn't know; something was wrong, and that alone was enough to spur him into attempted action. Sans forced his eye sockets open, finding it to be a task with painful results. He couldn't make sense of the spinning world, which oblivion consumed as he continued to listen.

"….. Think you should see this."

A moment of quiet, save for the beeping.

"O-oh…. I-I- how? What- oh my gosh, how? H-he-he's…. I don't get it."

"I mean, I'm sure there's some kind of explanation but…. You think we should put him back under, just to be safe?"

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep beep beep beep beep!

_Oh, no ya don't!_

His eye sockets shot open, finding blurs which shifted as he forced himself to move. He commanded his body, unsure of how thoroughly it obeyed. He received only a vague sense of movement from his limbs. Blinking, he found the shapes around him sharpened after a few more beeps. They retained some level of haziness, though not enough to truly impede his view. A lanky human male stared bewildered at him, alongside a yellow lizard monster who wore a look of sheer terror.

With the two of them momentarily frozen, his eye sockets darted about. He sat upon a hospital bed, connected to the noisy machine by a small pad attached to his chest. The adhesive gave easily and he tossed the thing aside to the tune of a skull-splitting alarm. It seemed a fairly typical room one might expect of any medical facility. Had he been in the midst of a mission before waking here, Sans would have felt no suspicion.

Movement caught his attention as the feeling fully returned to his body. The human stepped tentatively in his direction, and he wasn't about to wait for the outcome of that.

"Hey! Get back here!"

He ignored those idiotic words. Heart pounding, he chose a direction at random and sped through the hallway. He heard footsteps behind. The lizard shrieked, "Undyne!" just as he turned a corner. So there were at least three enemies he'd be dealing with. He expected there to be more than that, however. He sprinted clumsily past a window. Trees. He was at ground level. Useful information he thought with a glance behind. They hadn't reached this hall yet. He hurried through a door, surveying the room with practiced speed. No one was here. It was a room similar to the one he'd escaped, and he took these moments to search for a weapon.

They passed him without thought, the monster still calling for…. His neighbor?

He looked up, blinking. What was Undyne doing here? Where was here? He shoved the questions from his mind. Now was not the time. Fight first; questions later. Struggling for breath, he scoured the cabinets and drawers for anything he could use. Finding nothing, he stepped cautiously back into the bright passage.

Several doors revealed the same setup. He left them be. He carefully wandered these hallways until hearing pursuers and slipping silently into a new room. Here he found a number of useful drugs and syringes stocked neatly in cabinets that should've been locked. Sans could find nothing he recognized as poison. With everything that he found, there wasn't enough of it to be deadly. He settled upon a drug he knew to be a sedative.

He filled a few syringes as a group hurried by the door. He stepped out into the hall and ran in the opposite direction they had gone. It wasn't long before he found the need to hide once again. He positioned himself behind the door. He waited. There were definitely more than three people here. Who did they work for? What did they want? Was the Undyne she called merely a different person of the same name?

Upon seeing who entered, he was even more confused. The goat-like monster spoke in a soft tone, her gentle words claiming he had nothing to fear. One look at this person told him it was _not _the Toriel he knew. He closed the door behind her just as she turned to see him. His movements felt off, but proved quick enough for him to empty a syringe into her leg. Only just. He found himself knocked backward by a powerful, orange blast. He felt a stinging in his bones, and smoke obscured his vision. He didn't stick around to watch her fall to the floor.

He turned a corner. At the end of the long hallway was a simple wooden door. He ran, stumbling once along the way. He heard nothing but the wind rushing past his skull and the pounding of his heart. Panting, he neared the door, reaching for the handle.

Something stopped him in his tracks. He fell, dropping the remaining syringes. They rolled across the white floor, producing a soft, high-pitched ringing. He struggled instinctively against this unseen force. An invisible heaviness kept him from rising, most prevalent in his chest. With a growl, he pushed against the floor, noticing the radiant green glow coming from within him. The force pushed him farther down until he laid flat on his rib cage. He vainly flailed his limbs. There wasn't enough oxygen to satisfy his lungs.

"Give it up, ya little punk! You're not getting away from me!"

The voice was so familiar, yet unfamiliar all at once. He continued to struggle. The world spun. His vision blurred. Air had been scarce enough without the weight. He wheezed, feeling himself grow limp. The Undyne that wasn't Undyne reached him as muffled voices drifted through the air.

"Now, tell me how you got all that LV."

Lifting his head was a challenge he nearly failed. He looked up at her. "What?"

She regarded him with barely-contained ire, baring her shark-like teeth. "Your LV, punk. How'd ya get it?"

He coughed. "I…. Can't…. breathe…"

She gave a slight wave of her hand, and the unseen weight lifted to some tiny degree. "Well?"

"I don't…. I don't know wha'cher talkin' about."

"Sure you don't." A kick to his ribs. "Nobody gets twenty LV by accident! So what's wrong with you?"

He glared at the anomaly. "I…. I dunno what the hell you're talkin' 'bout ya psycho-"

"Watch your fuckin' language!" Another kick.

"Hah…. I dunno wha'chu are, or why ya look like my neighbor…. But-"

"Undyne," said a new voice, one he didn't recognize. "Perhaps he truly does not know. Things may work differently in his world. And he is surely frightened by waking up here, with no idea of what has happened." A male goat monster appeared in his limited view, smiling. "I am sorry, Sans. Things were not supposed to turn out the way they have. I am sure you have many questions. Why not settle things over a nice cup of tea?"

Before he could speak, "Undyne" spoke up. "Ugh, ya got two choices here, all right? You can stop acting like a lunatic and hear us out, or we can just put you in a coma again. What's it gonna be?"

Surprisingly organized and articulate for a bunch of anomalies. They almost sounded like people. He struggled for a few seconds more, as though doing so would somehow remove the creature's power. He halted with a resigned sigh.

"I wanna know what's goin' on."


	20. Stealing One's Own Identity

Chapter Twenty: Stealing One's Own Identity

It was a beautiful day outside. Birds were singing. Flowers were blooming. On days like these, skeletons like him, should be anywhere but here.

His surroundings appeared as nothing more than blurry shapes, the lovely array of colors going unnoticed. He didn't look behind at the creature giving chase. There was no need. The unholy insect-human combination wasn't far. It filled the air with terrible screeches vaguely resembling the pterodactyl he'd dealt with yesterday. Multiple limbs pounded against the earth, producing a thunderous noise. The anomaly had wrenched the gun from his hands, leaving him defenseless.

"Agent Gaster, respond!"

"Sans? Ya there?"

He yelled into the handheld device, "where are you?"

"We done met up at th' waterfall. Y' okay?"

He glanced at the creature. It was gaining on him. "Uh-" A skull-splitting scream. "Define 'okay'."

"Location?"

He jumped over an arching tree root. "I dunno; th' middle of nowhere?" He took a sharp turn. A quick look around as he sprinted. "No landmarks!"

A voice growled a number of obscenities. He wordlessly agreed. The pain in his chest grew sharper as the device slipped from his hand. His body hadn't grown much more accustomed to exercise. The unseen force propelled him onward. It fueled his exhausted limbs. His soul pulsed with its influence. He charged through a tangled mass of undergrowth. He struggled for air, and called upon the force for help. It came as a mild surprise that his ragged breaths grew steadier.

The trees disappeared. Water. He spotted a boat the river had wedged between two stones. He leaped forward. A tearing sound rippled faintly through the water's roaring. The being's grasp was enough to slow his trajectory. Sans hit the rock with a _crack _and a painful jolt surged through his face. He clambered onto the stone and stepped carefully onto the decaying wood. He didn't dare look at the lifeless body the vessel held. Instead he hurried to reach the other stone, hoping to finally put some distance between the thing and himself. He neared the edge, carefully readying himself to scale the taller rock.

A screech, one that was too close within a couple of soul pulses. The boat's rim lunged upward. Pain, and a horrible tingling that coursed through his leg. He flew through the air with a yelp, landing spine first on a wooden seat. His vision darkened. Air wouldn't come. He fought with his bones, willing them to move. They refused to. He scarcely heard the being's calls over the ringing in his skull.

_Breathe._

The blurry mass moving about would simply have to wait. He focused on forcing his lungs to cooperate. They expanded, just barely. They would hardly exhale. With the force's help, he coughed, expelling more magic-filled air than before. He dragged an equal amount of the element into the faintly-glowing organs. He counted the frantic pulses in his chest. One. Two. For the most part, he could breathe again. Three. Four. The haze melted away from his vision. Five. The feeling returned to his battered form. He clearly heard the anomaly's calls and the liquid churning around them.

A horrible smell to his left. He looked to the decaying body, thinking to himself about the _dead end_ the human's boat had reached.

One of the creature's many legs was lodged between a rock and a hard place. Literally. He pushed himself backward from the preoccupied being. He sat with his back against the shifting end of the vessel. He stared at the rock he'd been attempting to reach, then the one he'd gotten to first. He considered making a run for it. It wouldn't be easy; not with the creature rocking the boat as it was.

He didn't get the chance to act. He wasn't fully aware of what happened next. The anomaly noticed that he was still alive. It lunged at him, and from then on they existed in a confusing flurry of movements. He almost found himself underwater a number of times before realizing their surroundings were different. Somewhere along the line, they had managed to free the boat from its rocky prison. He dodged a pair of fangs before a thought of it could cross his mind.

Amidst the chaos, there was a deeper, stronger roaring growing near.

Things persisted in the same manner until it was too loud to ignore. In unison, monster and anomaly froze in their tracks. They turned their heads, finding that the river was about to vanish from beneath them.

"Welp. Nice going, genius. Now we're _both _gonna die."

OoOoO

"But-but the s-stone's not responding to-to anything, so we…. We woke y-you up."

"Two weeks."

"Y-yes."

"Two. Weeks."

"YES."

The group observed, not previously aware that a skeleton's "eye" was capable of twitching. For two weeks an anomalous creature had taken his place, living his life, existing under the same roof as his younger sister. He struggled for air as discretely as possible. How in the multiverse had these creatures managed to pull off such a feat?

"We'll find a way to switch you back," said one of the humans. "It's just going to take a bit longer than we hoped."

There was a pause. He tried to ascertain their motives for keeping him alive, as one of their own gathered forbidden information. A backup plan of some sort? "So whaddo I do 'til then?"

"Well… Um…. I-I-the-"

"Alphys, breathe."

She did so at the Undyne's reminder. "There _is _a-a guestroom here, but it's-it's kinda full of junk I meant to put somewhere else. Th-there's the other part of the building w-where-where you woke up, but it-it'll probably get uncomfortable after a while."

"WAIT! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, HAVE JUST GOTTEN A BRILLIANT IDEA!"

The overly-loud voice caused him to jump. He glared at the weird alternate version of his sibling, responding with an unfriendly, "what?"

Papyrus dropped the theatrical pose he'd taken on. "YOU CAN STAY IN MY SANS' ROOM! IT WILL LIKELY BE FAR MESSIER THAN YOU'RE USED TO…. BUT! IT SHOULD BE A LITTLE FAMILIAR, AT LEAST?"

"I dunno if that's such a great idea," said the fish monster, turning to him with a suspicious glare. "You still haven't told us how you got all that EXP."

Perhaps his mind remained a little off from the coma. Still, he was sure she'd mentioned a different acronym before. Yes; LV. Without the faintest clue of what they stood for, he searched for an explanation that would satisfy the powerful beings. He looked down at his own form as the anomalies waited in silence. Whatever it was, he found nothing unusual on his person, meaning it was either internal or merely something he was blind to.

"Ugh. Okay, uh, EXP? An' that LV ya mentioned before? It don't mean anything. People jus' have it." Not enough oxygen. His heart refused to cease its pounding. "Nobody could ever figure out what it means. People jus' have random amounts of it in my world, an' it don't make any difference in anything. People ferget its even there."

"Not buying it!"

He attempted to move from his position in the recliner, finding that oppressive weight present once again. Sans gripped the armrests, sweating as he stared at the manifested weapons. These creatures were going kill him. Their agent would gain sensitive information, which they would use against the ATTF. His sister would be left alone with nothing more than three large guns, moderate training in how to use them, and a short fuse! His home world would be overrun by-

"U-Undyne, please calm down. We don't-we don't know that much about th-that world. Maybe he's telling the t-truth?"

"But-"

"Now, now. That is quite enough," the goat commanded gently. "Violence is not the answer, Undyne. Have you learned nothing from Frisk?"

The mere notion of another being made him feel like bursting into tears.

"If you are going to stay with Papyrus for the time being, I am afraid I must request a favor," he continued as Sans felt the weight vanish along with the spears. "You see, Toriel, Frisk, and I only arrived back home a few days ago. We have been speaking with the human leaders. Things are a little more…. Tense than we first thought. They will not take well to a monster scientist preforming these experiments without permission."

The human male piped up: "They don't really like it when _humans _do stuff without asking. So, yeah. We thought it'd be okay, because it'd be really successful and stuff but that didn't turn out so great. So to make things public now…."

He met that nervous gaze and finished, "ya want me t' pretend t' be him."

"Yes. I am sorry to ask you this, but I must."

"PEOPLE HAVE BEEN ASKING WHERE HE'S BEEN. I TOLD THEM YOU WERE NAPPING, BUT EVEN MY BROTHER CAN ONLY NAP FOR SO LONG!"

What choice did he have? Something told him there wasn't one.

"All right," he answered with a sigh, in desperate need of something to calm his nerves. "Y'all got any barbecue sauce?"

* * *

**Long chapter. How did I** **accidently type** **one thousand five hundred something words what the heck brain. Now I'm gonna get writer's block for the next billion years. :(**


	21. Practice

**Internet's back, so here's a chapter!**

Chapter Twenty One: Practice

"I-I just…."

Tiny pinpoints of light darted about. They found no escape. He took a step back from the eyes glaring down at him, sensing the overbearing aura of those behind. He noticed in the tiny shifts of their features that he'd worsened their ire. He dared not move again. Tension hung in the air as those surrounding awaited his excuse.

"Uh…."

"Well?"

The numerous bright colors of the environment blended together. The sight was nauseating. The shadowy figures towering above him stood in harsh contrast to their background, growing more impatient by the second.

There was a pause.

He bolted, yelling, "I just wanted some cereal!"

"You wanted the _wrong_ cereal!"

He made it to the cart, stumbling into it and shoving it forward.

"You betrayed our great Tribe!"

"How could you, Sans?"

"I believed in you!"

"What's wrong with trying something new," he questioned frantically, running as he pushed his cart.

A deep, collective voice roared, "EVERYTHING!"

A glance to his left revealed two pursuers running and jumping along the tops of aisles.

With little else to do, Sans called for the unseen force. It came pouring out from the core of his soul. Its influence pulsed through him along with adrenaline. Eye sockets dark, he dared a glance behind. They were gaining. The force was at work. The lights flared to life a few strides later. Excitement surged through his bones. To his surprise, a laugh escaped him moments later. He veered towards the frozen food section. He cart surfed through an aisle of freezers.

He rushed by a few bored-looking shoppers. Members of Other Sans' cereal tribe continued their pursuit. Smile genuine, he hopped down from his perch and slid, shoes squeaking on the cream floor. He slowed well enough to turn right at the end. He worked to gain speed once more and hopped back onto the grocery-filled shopping cart.

In a near instant, he'd gone from nervous and confused to…. Whatever this was. In truth, the confusion remained, merely with a different cause.

At the end of the aisle stood a cloaked figure. They commanded him to stop, to see the error of his ways and choose the proper cereal. As it was, he was set on those delicious marshmallows. The not-instinct took over, driving him to propel the cart faster. The energy that wasn't grew stronger as they dove out of the way. He rode in search of soup.

Something was off, he thought with a laugh, one that unnerved him. One that didn't sound like his.

Air was in short supply as he slowed and turned into a new aisle. A phantom electricity surged through his being while Sans grabbed a few cans to add to his cart. Footsteps thudded against the floor behind him. He forced a deep breath. He turned yet again, silently daring them to follow.

Exhilaration. That was the word to describe this feeling, and something about it was oddly familiar.

Painfully familiar.

When he realized they'd given up on their mission, he halted next to a wall of pickles. He panted, hands shaking as the unseen force willed him to continue. It drove him a few steps onward. He fought for control.

_This doesn't make any sense._

Nothing about this force did.

Its presence lingered throughout his form even as he calmed. He sat next to the cart, staring at nothing as he questioned what had happened. The pressure in his chest remained, though for a far different reason. Just what had come over him, no matter how lovely it'd felt, was well and truly _strange _in every sense of the word.

The grocery store wasn't exactly the best place to reflect on such things. With that conclusion, he put the matter aside with the promise of future attention. He removed the list from his pocket and reviewed its contents. Papyrus had been rather insistent on a particular item he had yet to obtain. He stood with a sigh, and resumed his shopping trip.

OoOoO

"THERE'S NO NEED TO BE SHY, OTHER SANS! EVERYONE WOULD BE YOUR FRIEND EVEN IF THEY DIDN'T THINK YOU WERE ALREADY THEIR FRIEND!"

"That…. What did you jus' say?" In spite of it all, he stared at the anomaly trying to decipher its words.

"I'M SAYING THAT YOU SHOULD GO OUT AND SOCIALIZE! PEOPLE ARE SUSPICIOUS, AND MAYBE IT WILL HELP YOU FEEL BETTER?"

"Nope."

"NYEH?"

He rolled his metaphorical eyes and said, "ain't nothin' like that gonna help me feel any better."

He moved to close the bedroom door. The room had been a complete disaster, and it hadn't been in livable shape for long. An unidentifiable stench lingered that he seemed unable to get rid of. Nevertheless, it was an escape from these creatures and their paranormal abilities.

The "Papyrus" brought the door to a stop with its gloved hand. It "eyed" him critically.

"WELL! YOU MUST AT THE VERY LEAST COME DOWNSTAIRS. I THINK MORE SANS PRACTICE IS IN ORDER, JUST TO MAKE SURE YOU'VE GOT IT DOWN."

"But-"

Before he had the chance to finish his argument, he found himself being carried towards the stairs. Naturally, he struggled to free himself of the creature's grasp.

"Okay, okay! Put me down!"

It did so, allowing him to descend on his own two legs. They entered the living room and stood facing each other, Sans awaiting this otherworldly being's instructions.

"QUICK!" The creature yelled, striking a dramatic pose. "MAKE A PUN!"

"Okay, uh…."

"AND LOOK RELAXED! WHY DO YOU ALWAYS APPEAR SO TENSE?"

"Because-"

"QUICKLY! WHAT IS SANS' FAVORITE FOOD?"

"That's-"

"AND WHAT DOES HE LIKE TO DRINK?"

"Ketch-"

"CORRECT! WHAT IS HIS FAVORITE TV SHOW?"

"Okay, ya know what, maybe I will go fer a walk."

The "Papyrus" was silent as he made his way upstairs. It followed him to the bedroom with the weird odor.

"ARE YOU SURE YOU'RE PREPARED? YOU SEEM TO BE STRUGGLING WITH SOME THINGS. HAVE YOU BEEN PRACTICING TALKING LIKE MY BROTHER?"

Grabbing the filthy blue jacket, he wondered if it had ever been washed. He donned it reluctantly, then took a deep breath. Sans took on the most relaxed stance he could, forcing his hands into those disgusting pockets.

"'Course I have. Hope ya don't have a _bone _t' pick with me for leaving, but I got some friends to _ketchup _with."

It gazed at him for a long moment before giving him a nod of approval.

OoOoO

Shadows engulfed the room, and had for some time. It was far too late to be awake. His eye sockets were wide open, the events of the day replaying in his mind. Scarcely had he had the chance to figure _anything_ out, let alone this. Even now, the clock refused to stop its ticking. Sans knew all too well that sleep was in order. But when else was he to think?

And so, he laid awake in his double's bed, staring upward with unspoken questions. The force's manifestation alone had come out of nowhere. It'd saved his life on more than one occasion, and he'd been learning how to summon it when needed. Was it a positive or negative sign that it'd come so easily when he was not in true danger?

Why had it caused such a feeling in him? When it'd saved him from certain doom, there had been a tame sense of happiness. What he'd felt in the store was something far more intense. It'd been fun, to say the least, but concerning all at once. He'd lost control of himself, and it wasn't the first time the force had caused it.

An idea sprang to mind, risky, but the only one he had. In what other way could he learn about something so intangible?

He sat up, calling it to it with a deep breath.


	22. Experimentation

**Looks like the story didn't properly update last time, this should fix it. Also, puke warning~**

Chapter Twenty Two: Experimentation

His soul pulsed frantically, magic as well as the unseen force coursing through him. The energy surged about in a confused manner upon its needless summoning. Sans lifted a shaking hand, flexing his fingers as though trying to grasp the incorporeal presence. His attempts at deep breathing quickly turned onto a struggle for air. It was for an entirely different reason than before. His permanent smile was genuine. The lights in his eye sockets cut through the shadows like stars in the void of space.

"Heh…."

He gripped the blankets as though his life depended on them. The unseen force grew stronger, pouring outward from from the core of his being. Something caught his attention and he looked down, finding that his soul was clearly visible, glowing a bright blue from within. An odd buzzing sensation began in his chest and dominated his skeletal form mere moments later.

It resembled the sensation of a limb regaining feeling, after it'd been "asleep" for a while. While it was a rare occurrence for monsters of his kind, it was possible, and it was the best way to describe the experience. Such a fact brought a new spin to the now-old question: Was this foreign yet familiar energy something he had always possessed? Why else would its source be the very culmination of his being? Why, if that was true, was he unaware of it until now? Surely something would have triggered it before?

"C'mon….. You always been around or are ya just a side-affect?"

Could it be this world's unstable magi-

_A glimpse of orange fur._

He blinked. "_What?"_

He chucked, saying, "you're gonna have to gimmie more than that. I need answers, not more questions."

Just why was he speaking to a non-sentient force?

Throwing the blankets aside, he took to pacing. He forced his lungs to fill. They were hardly satisfied. The buzzing only worsened the further he pried. He couldn't stop the laugh from escaping him; since when did he find trouble sitting still? Since when was he anything but relaxed? He was _Sans._

He tried to halt his legs. Emphasis on _tried_.

"Heh…. Since when were you the one in control?"

_Pale stone._

That wasn't helpful, either.

When again he came around to the too-neat desk, he grabbed its edge. He gripped it much in the same way he'd taken hold of the blankets. Finally, he regained use of his own legs. He leaned on the dark wooden surface as he wrestled silently with what he could not see. He stared down at his hands. His trembling fingers found some tiny amount of stability when he tightened his grip, only to lose it when he could no longer bear to stay in place.

A yellow glow. A laugh. _Someone else's laugh._

A horrible eruption of magic from his eye socket. _Pain._

_..._

The next thing he knew, the room was spinning. He stirred, feeling motion sick. He struggled not to retch. When did he fall to the floor? His twitching hands found carpet beneath them. An abrupt groan as he noticed the pounding in his skull. He forced his eye sockets open, squinting as well as a skeleton could at the golden beams of light above him. The dizziness quickly overtook him, and his vision became dark once more. There he laid, his only option to wait.

Gradually, the spinning calmed, though the nausea remained. He cautiously opened his eye sockets to the sunlight cutting through the room's weakened shadows. From his limited perspective, nothing appeared out of place. The ceiling took up most of his view, however. It didn't mean much. He made a few wary movements before daring to sit up.

Everything looked to be the same. Not a trace existed of the previous night's events. The only thing out of place, the only indication that it had not been a dream, was the fact that he'd awoken in this manner. Sans pushed himself backward to lean against the desk drawers. He propped an arm on a knee, and his head on his hand, blinking whilst he formed his unspoken questions.

He began to form a hypothesis.

This world's magic was unstable. The people within it seemed to carry no ill effects from that; it made sense given that they had always existed with "Nil" being chaotic as it was. Sans had come from a world much different in that regard. The magic within him had therefore been stable, something that he believed must no longer be true.

The magic flowing through his bones now mimicked the element of this world, and created these disturbing symptoms. Sure, the unseen force had helped him. It was also well on its way to causing harm, if it hadn't already. He'd experienced moments of both visual and auditory hallucinations as well. That was another thing to note: the possibility of psychological changes. He made a mental note to keep track of his mental state.

Probably not the best way to go about that.

In any case, it was just a theory for the time being. A parallel universe theory.

The terrible headache had eased somewhat during his musings. He figured now was as well a time as any to try standing. He shoved himself upwards, using the desk as support. A new wave of vertigo attacked, bringing a new and powerful wave of nausea. He waited for both to settle before making his way to the upstairs bathroom.

Light flooded the room with a click. He stepped inside and locked the door- not that he expected Papyrus to be awake so early during the weekend- and shuffled over to the vanity.

Dry blood rimmed the bottom of his eye socket. It'd streamed a little ways down the side of his face before the bleeding had apparently stopped. Aside from the dull throbbing that persisted, particularly on that side of his head, he sensed nothing wrong with it. He looked down at the faucet and turned the knob with a "C". A loud hissing shattered the silence.

He grabbed a washcloth and cleaned up his face, taking care to be gentle around and just inside the socket.

His stomach refused to let him be. Another wave assaulted his efforts midway, this one much stronger than the last. He dropped the cloth in the sink. He hurried over to the toilet with little thought and lifted its lid. A glowing mess of partially-digested food spewed from his jaws. The sickness vanished after a few agonizing minutes, and he was able to flush the puke. Perhaps _that _was what toilets were for. It seemed a bit excessive to create such a device just for vomit. In the end, he didn't care.

As he finished cleaning up, a scream tore through the house.


	23. Music and Mind Control

Chapter Twenty Three: Music and Mind Control

"Wake up or I'll kill y-"

A horrible screech interrupted the death threat. Sans jolted upward in a flurry of flailing limbs. A barely-audible thud as he hit the floor.

Moments later, he registered that the noise was merely Papyrus' version of music. She'd been playing it each day upon waking. He glared at the carpet from beneath the tangled mess of blankets. He muttered a few ireful words as he struggled to free himself from the partial burrito.

Once on his feet, he dismissed the alarm and stumbled out into the hallway. Doomkitty wove herself between his clumsy legs, and he once again fell.

He was in no mood for this.

"Papyrus!" He finished the trek to her bedroom. He pounded on the door upon finding it locked. "PAPYRUS!"

No answer.

He sighed, making his way to the basement, where he would switch off the breaker connected to her room.

OoOoO

He'd learned a number of things, one of them being that these creatures were utterly insane. No one had believed in the likes of magic and sorcery for centuries, yet here they were. They attributed their anomalous powers to the same force that had supposedly graced wizards. Wizards that existed only in fairy tales no one over the age of four could find entertainment in. The notion of magic they constantly tossed around threatened to give him a headache after half a minute of listening. In the back of his mind, Sans knew he should be more open to the concept. After all, what better place to learn about the creatures and their powers than from the beings themselves? Nevertheless, he continued to reject the absurd idea.

There was no such thing as magic. The closest thing to it was Nil, the mysterious element which seemed prevalent in anomalies. Perhaps they mistook Nil for the imaginary force present only in fantasy? These beings weren't typically smart.

He stared at the laptop without truly seeing it. In spite of his unrelenting efforts, his search for an underlying darkness proved fruitless. Every hint at conspiracy lead nowhere, supposedly disproved with five minutes of research. It meant little, of course, as their cover up methods could simply be more advanced than the typical lies. Try as me might, in spite of all his experience and skill, he failed to uncover anything of interest. No matter how much he pried, he found nothing. It served only to worsen the prickling in his chest. He was in the midst of trying to access this world's dark web when a knock at the door made him jump.

Closing the laptop, he approached the door with a deep breath. The odd odor which permeated the air had grown familiar. He hardly noticed it as he warily peeked out at the Papyrus impersonation.

"Yeah?"

"OTHER SANS! LUNCH TIME APPROACHES!" It struck a dramatic pose. "ARE YOU READY?"

"Ready fer what," he questioned with narrowed eye sockets.

"THE PICNIC! I REMINDED YOU TWELVE TIMES YESTERDAY. REALLY, I HAD BELIEVED A RESPONSIBLE ADULT VERSION OF MY BROTHER…. WOULD HAVE A BETTER MEMORY THAN THIS. NO MATTER! THE SPAGHETTI IS PREPARED AND IT'S TIME TO GO!"

He shuddered at the thought of that pasta. "Uh, no thanks. Think I'll jus' stay here an' uh, do anything other than that."

"NONSENSE," it proclaimed, halting the door with a foot. It pushed its way into the room. "YOU SPEND FAR TOO MUCH TIME BY YOURSELF. WHAT DO YOU EVEN DO IN HERE ALL DAY?"

"…. I play video games," he claimed with a suspicious glare, remembering the various games he'd found on the computer.

It froze, allowing a dreadful silence to fill the air.

_*You are filled with fear._

Not enough air not enough air not enough air not enough-

"THERE ARE…. VIDEO GAMES IN HERE?"

"Heh…. Uh…. I-I…."

_Yep, this is it. I'm gonna die. This is the day I die._

The Papyrus continued to stare at him with that harsh expression as he struggled for words.

Then an abrupt, "WERE THEY ALREADY HERE, OR DID YOU-"

"Yeah! Yeah, I-they-they was-I didn't-"

"WELL…. OKAY THEN! THAT IS A PROBLEM I SHALL DEAL WITH WHEN MY SANS RETURNS."

Its ominous expression brought an unexpected heaviness to his insides. That poor anomaly. Never had he ever expected to pity one.

"IN THE MEANTIME! I WILL NOT ALLOW THE PRODUCTIVE GROWN-UP VERSION OF HIM TO FORM THE SAME HABITS! VIDEO GAMES ARE THE WORST FORM OF LAZINESS, YOU SEE. IT'S _PRETENDING _TO DO SOMETHING WHEN YOU'RE REALLY NOT, AND I SIMPLY WON'T STAND FOR SUCH THINGS!"

He blinked, unable to do much more. He battled with his lungs, willing them to inhale. They refused.

"SO GET READY AND MEET ME DOWNSTAIRS. WE MUST NOT BE LATE!"

And with that, it made its overly-theatrical exit.

Sans stood there, counting the seconds. He reached five before his legs gave out.

He sat on the floor, in a parallel universe of lunatics, wondering how anything could hold such hatred for video games. Laziness or not, everyone needed a hobby!

He donned the expected jacket and joined the creature. During the drive, he found himself enthralled. Since when was the sky such a beautiful shade of blue? The city of this world wasn't as developed as the one he knew. Vibrant colors captured his attention in spite of it all, his breaths growing deeper as he observed the lovely green leaves and array of flowers. He'd only walked these streets prior, too distracted by passersby to notice the simple elegance of nature. When had he last enjoyed the majesty of a sunrise?

It seemed he should remember when last he witnessed the wonderful blend of fiery colors. It was…. Right, the Bermuda Triangle Incident! The lights in his eye sockets brightened victoriously at the memory. How could he forget such an adventure?

The lights dimmed. That event had taken place years ago. Had it really been so long?

"WE'RE HERE."

He exited the car and shoved his hands into his pockets. He stood motionless for a time, feeling the faint warmth of the sun. He stared up at this world's home star, relishing its light. He'd taken life's simple pleasures for granted.

"HMM…. THERE THEY ARE!"

Following the creature's gaze, he saw the group of anomalies at a distant table. The goats waved, the Timetwist being appearing from behind the Toriel. The prickling pain returned in an instant. He trailed along behind the Papyrus, silently berating himself for lowering his guard. How could he be so careless? What had gotten into him? Could it be that this world they ruled was itself an anomaly, one that possessed a subtle form of mind control?

That was surely the cause for his musings. After all, the sun was just that, and flowers were nothing special. This world was filled to the brim with deadly beings; his precarious situation called for the utmost caution. He would not fall prey to enemy tricks.


	24. Sans Versus the World

Chapter Twenty Four: Sans Versus the World

His unseen stomach growled upon the scent reaching him. The Toriel impersonation, which claimed to hold no ill will at him for their encounter, had lifted a pie from their large basket. He stared at it through narrowed eye sockets. This was another trick; he knew it! Why else would a sudden hunger show up to vex him? That cinnamon smell held dark secrets he would not allow himself to fall victim to. He stood several feet from the group, analyzing their every action. His stomach growled once more, louder this time. The one they called "Frisk" beckoned with a smile.

He glared back, unwilling to reveal the rising panic in his heart. He battled his emotions with renewed purpose, quelling his natural instincts in favor of training and experience. The combination was of little use to him, however. Neither had succeeded in preparing him for this. Training could only go so far, and he'd never been in quite a situation.

It wasn't the first time he'd walked in another world. None of them had held this particular set of limitations. No world he'd visited prior ever housed beings that could render him utterly helpless. The most he could do under the fish's power was try to catch a spear and use it as protection, and he hadn't a clue how quickly they could fly through the air.

"OTHER SANS, COME AND JOIN US!"

He saw tiny traces of annoyance in the anomaly's expression, likely due to the slaying of virtual dragons.

"'m not hungry."

"BUT YOU HAVEN'T EATEN SINCE BREAKFAST, AND YOU HARDLY ATE THEN!"

He shrugged, averting his gaze.

"Are we gonna eat? I'm STARVING!"

"Patience, Undyne. We have not even finished setting up the table."

He watched them in the corner of his vision. The Undyne disturbed the air with an overly-dramatic groan. Frisk feigned weakness, collapsing onto the grass and telling the others to "go on without her", much to Toriel's exasperation. Papyrus held his awful spaghetti high above his head and waited for applause, whilst Alphys and Asgore struggled to organize things with their limited space. A strong gust of wind sent a plastic cup flying, which the lizard frantically pursued.

"Frisk, my child, why not go and play for a few minutes while we figure this out? Perhaps a game of Hide and Seek with Undyne?"

They perked up at this, immediately running off as each declared themselves the best at the game.

"Sans, go with them and make sure things do not get out of hand, please."

"Sure," he replied with a level of sarcasm. What was it exactly that she expected him to do?

He trailed along in the direction they had gone, scanning the environment for any sign of deceit. This world did well in hiding its true nature. He saw not a trace of distortion, no thread he pull to unravel this cheery illusion. The setup was so thorough that he had nearly believed it himself for a moment. That was just it, however: there was a _lie _in believe. It was surely a secret message placed in the word by its inventors to hint at the hidden dangers of the multiverse. He lost sight of Frisk as she threw herself up a tunnel slide. What powers did the creature hold in this world?

He sat on a bench and pretended to watch Undyne seek. His stomach growled. He whispered at the vile thing to shut up.

How was Papyrus doing, he wordlessly asked yet again. How was the _real _Papyrus doing, living with a dangerous entity she thought to be her brother? They didn't have the closest of relationships, in fact, they scarcely interacted outside of necessity. He was far too busy saving the world she lived in to learn about how she viewed it. How much was she aware of? Would she eventually realize the other "Sans" was an impostor? What would become of her if she did? A sudden thud; he clutched his chest, struggling for air. How was he to ensure her safety now? What could he do but wait for an escape route back to his world?

"Hello…. Do you mind…. If I…. Sit here…?"

He lowered his hand, attaining a grip on the edge of his seat with both. The stone scraped his fingers. He tightened his grip. All his training, all those years of honing his skills, and for what? To wind up so painfully useless, at the mercy of the beings he was meant to hunt? To sit and do nothing, awaiting some miracle that would never come? To _hope _for a happy end to this rather than _making _one happen?

"Oh no…. I'm sorry…. I didn't mean to bother you…."

"Move," he commanded, pushing past the weird "ghost".

_If that's what'yer thinkin'…. Ya better stop thinkin' it! Ain't gonna happen!_

There simply had to be another portal, one whose functionality didn't rely on magical rocks. He would find that portal, he decided, or die trying.

"I'm sorry…."

He paid no heed to the scents of the flowers. He couldn't have cared less for the wind or the sun. Such things were not special, and he nearly laughed at his own stupidity.

_I admit, yer mind control's pretty strong, but it ain't no match fer me._

He followed the stone pathway to a gate at the far side of the park. He gave his surroundings a quick glance before making his departure. They couldn't kill him if they couldn't find him! He called himself a genius as the thought crossed his mind.

This world believed he would succumb to its will, did it? There was a _lie _in believe, and the anomaly could think as it wished. The reality would not change. He was a seasoned agent of the Anomalous Threats Task Force, and Agent Gaster refused to let these creatures choose the end of his tale. Things had been out of hand for much too long, a wrong he found himself Determined to make right.

No matter how many times his stomach begged for food.


	25. Return to a Previous Save

Chapter Twenty Five: Return to a Previous Save

Sneaking through shaded alleyways, the otherworldly agent did his best to formulate a plan. Knowing so little about this place, there wasn't much he could do aside from hope he stumbled across a portal to his home. Sans knew how unlikely that was, and instead decided to seek out an area in which to set up a temporary base.

He peeked around a corner-

…

He'd learned a number of things, one of them being that these creatures were utterly insane. No one had believed in the likes of magic and sorcery for centuries, yet here they were. They attributed their anomalous powers to the same force that had supposedly graced wizards. Wizards that existed only in fairy tales no one over the age of four could find entertainment in. The notion of magic they constantly tossed around threatened to give him a headache after half a minute of listening. In the back of his mind, Sans knew he should be more open to the concept. After all, what better place to learn about the creatures and their powers than from the beings themselves? Nevertheless, he continued to reject the absurd idea.

Something about this was familiar.

He stared at the laptop without truly seeing it, hands frozen in their position above the keyboard. He'd been unable to find a trace of conspiracy. The fact only worsened the prickling in his chest, along with his sense of déjà vu. He considered trying to access this world's dark web, deciding to hold off at the request of his instincts. Something was coming. Something food related was meant to happen today, wasn't it?

A knock at the door made him jump.

Closing the laptop, he approached the door with a deep breath. The odd odor which permeated the air had grown familiar. He hardly noticed it as he warily peeked out at the Papyrus impersonation.

"Yeah?"

"OTHER SANS! LUNCH TIME APPROACHES!" It struck a dramatic pose. "ARE YOU READY?"

He blinked.

_That stupid picnic it was goin' on about yesterday!_

He shuddered at the thought of that pasta.

"Uh, no thanks. Think I'll jus' stay here an' uh, do anything other than that."

"NONSENSE," it proclaimed, halting the door with a foot. It pushed its way into the room. "YOU SPEND FAR TOO MUCH TIME BY YOURSELF. WHAT DO YOU EVEN DO IN HERE ALL DAY?"

"I-I uh…." Tiny pinpoints of light darted about in search of an excuse. They settled on the collection of books he'd organized. "Read…. Stuff."

"YOU LIKE SCIENCE-Y THINGS TOO? WOWIE! YOU TWO HAVE SOMETHING IN COMMON AFTER ALL!"

"Yeah, I been readin'-" he stepped over to the shelf and grabbed a book at random- "this one."

He opened the book to see a number of complex ideas that he had little grasp on. He stared at the pages, blinking at the symbols he knew almost nothing about.

"MY SANS THINKS HE'S A SCIENTIST. HE EVEN CALLED DIBS ON THE BASEMENT WHEN WE MOVED IN SO HE COULD HAVE HIS OWN LABORATORY." The creature brought a gloved hand to its chin, appearing to lose itself in thought. It seemed to speak mostly to itself, adding, "HE DOES DO LITTLE PROJECTS DOWN THERE, BUT I THINK HE MOSTLY USES THEM TO GET OUT OF CHORES."

A lab, you say? That could prove rather useful. Though, if the previous state of this bedroom was anything to go by, he knew not to expect much.

"NOW THEN! SHALL WE GO? WE MUST NOT BE LATE!"

"Okay."

He donned the expected jacket and joined the creature. During the drive, he found himself enthralled. Since when was the sky such a beautiful shade of blue? The city of this world wasn't as developed as the one he knew. Vibrant colors captured his attention in spite of it all, his breaths growing deeper as he observed the lovely green leaves and array of flowers. He'd only walked these streets prior, too distracted by passersby to notice the simple elegance of nature. When had he last enjoyed the majesty of a sunrise?

It seemed he should remember when last he witnessed the wonderful blend of fiery colors. It was…. Right, the Bermuda Triangle Incident! The lights in his eye sockets brightened victoriously at the memory. How could he forget such an adventure?

The lights dimmed once more. That event had taken place years ago. Had it really been so long?

"WE'RE HERE!"

He exited the car and shoved his hands into his pockets. He stood motionless for a time, feeling the faint warmth of the sun. He stared up at this world's home star, relishing its light. He'd taken life's simple pleasures for granted.

But something was wrong.

"HMM…. THERE THEY ARE!"

Following the creature's gaze, he saw the group of anomalies at a distant table. The goats waved, the Timetwist being appearing from behind the Toriel. The prickling pain returned in an instant. He trailed along behind the Papyrus, silently berating himself for lowering his guard. How could he be so careless? What had gotten into him? Could it be that this world they ruled was itself an anomaly, one that possessed a subtle form of mind control?

That was surely the cause for his musings. After all, the sun was just that, and flowers were nothing special. This world was filled to the brim with deadly beings; his precarious situation called for the utmost caution. He would not fall prey to enemy tricks!

His unseen stomach growled upon the scent reaching him. The Toriel impersonation, which claimed to hold no ill will at him for their encounter, had lifted a pie from their large basket. He stared at it through narrowed eye sockets. This was another trick; he knew it! Why else would a sudden hunger show up to vex him? That cinnamon smell held dark secrets he would not allow himself to fall victim to. He stood several feet from the group, analyzing their every action. His stomach growled yet again, louder this time. The one they called "Frisk" beckoned with a forced smile, one that he saw right through.

He noticed subtle details in the creature's expression. He struggled for air as he glared at its masked annoyance. It stared at him with some form of forbidden knowledge each time the others' backs were turned. Not enough air. The scent of pie was nauseating.

"OTHER SANS, COME AND JOIN US!"

"'m not hungry." He meant it this time.

"BUT YOU HAVEN'T EATEN SINCE BREAKFAST, AND YOU HARDLY ATE THEN!"

He shrugged, averting his gaze.

"Are we gonna eat? I'm STARVING!"

"Patience, Undyne. We have not even finished setting up the table."

He watched them in the corner of his vision. The Undyne disturbed the air with an overly-dramatic groan. Frisk feigned weakness, collapsing onto the grass and telling the others to "go on without her", much to Toriel's exasperation. Papyrus held his awful spaghetti high above his head and waited for applause, whilst Alphys and Asgore struggled to organize things with their limited space. A strong gust of wind sent a plastic cup flying, which the lizard frantically pursued.

"Frisk, my child, why not go and play for a few minutes while we figure this out? Perhaps a game of Hide and Seek with Undyne?"

They perked up at this. Undyne bolted for the playground, proclaiming that she was the best at the game.

"Okay! Sans!" Frisk ran towards him. He held his breath as she gripped his hand and practically dragged him along with her. "Come hide with me!"

He stumbled behind the anomalous creature, praying that it didn't intend to kill him.

Upon reaching the area, the "human" yelled for Undyne to count. She dragged him towards a tunnel slide whilst an overly-aggressive "FIVE" tore through the air.

Every fiber of his being demanded some form of action, some form of self defense. What could he do? The team that'd captured this anomaly in his world had only barely done so, and after countless failed attempts. How was one to face an enemy with powers over time itself? Training and experience could only go so far.

"C'mon," she commanded.

Reluctantly, he climbed in after her. She sat atop the slide, scooting backward so that he could find a stable position. He glared at Frisk, lower half still within the giant tube. The surface beneath him was painful to the skeleton's rib cage. That little bit of exercise hadn't helped his lack of oxygen.

"Where'd you go?"

"What?"

"You left last time. Where'd you go?"

There was something in that annoyed yet curious look that succeeded in ticking him off.

"Arright ya freak o' nature," he growled breathlessly. "I don't gotta clue wha'cher tryin t' pull, but ain't gonna work on me!"

"What-"

"This weird little thing ya got goin' on! This world that's too bright, too happy, too damn _perfect_! All y'all got th' power t' kill me, each other, an' whatever else an' yer not afraid t' use it! I done dealt with yer kind most o' my life an' I know yer plannin' somethin'!"

Reddish brown eyes blinked at him. "You're not making a whole lotta sense."

"Everything's a conspiracy! Everything's a cover up!" He began to pull himself from the slide, limbs flailing. "Ya think yer gonna take over my world an' it aint't gonna happen!"

The being backed up, and he climbed farther upwards. Fingers wrapped harshly around his ankle. His eye sockets went dark. A squeak escaped him that he was glad no one back home had witnessed. He could picture the "Undyne" with its shark-like teeth grinning as it pulled him down.

Frisk was beginning to think their two worlds weren't so alike after all.


	26. What? No, he's Totally Calm

Chapter Twenty Six: What? No, he's Totally Calm

Oh, how he loathed this. The voice of reason whispered in the back of his skull, that he shouldn't feel so harshly towards himself. Unfortunately, emotions cared little for logic's weak voice. Sans glared out the window and watched their beautiful surroundings speed past his line of sight. He was content to wallow in misery at his own powerless position, though it seemed the anomaly had other plans.

"OTHER SANS," it called him, shattering the silence.

"What."

"YOU'RE HOMESICK, AREN'T YOU?"

He glanced at the entity. Its focus remained on the road.

"Guess ya could say that."

"JUST AS I THOUGHT! YOU MUST MISS YOUR PAPYRUS, YOUR FRIENDS, YOUR PRODUCTIVE ROUTINES…."

"D' you got a point or…."

"WELL, YES." It paused. "MY POINT IS! THAT YOU'RE NOT BEING VERY NICE! IT'S OKAY TO BE HOMESICK, BUT YOU SHOULDN'T TAKE IT OUT ON THE PEOPLE AROUND YOU. ESPECIALLY PEOPLE WHO ARE TRYING VERY HARD TO BE YOUR FRIEND AND MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER!"

He turned to look at the creature. "Let's not ferget, none o' this woulda been goin' on if you an' yer 'friends' knew how t' mind yer own dang business."

"YES, BUT HAVEN'T WE APOLOGIZED FIFTY FOUR TIMES ALREADY? AND-"

"Apologies don't fix nothin'. Still happened."

The creature looked at him with a mixture of confusion and irritation. There was something else woven into the minute details of its expression however: guilt.

"I KNOW. BUT ALPHYS AND HER FRIENDS ARE TRYING TO TRYING TO MAKE IT _UN_HAPPEN. THEY ONLY WANTED TO MAKE A COOL DISCOVERY AND SHARE IT WITH THE WORLD! AND I…. WELL, IT WAS ABOUT TIME I TOOK REVENGE ON MY BROTHER FOR HIS LAZINESS! DID I MENTION THE SELF-SUSTAINING TORNADO OF GARBAGE?"

"Yeah. Twelve times."

"WHAT I'M TRYING TO SAY IS THAT BEING MEAN WON'T HELP ANYTHING. NAPSTABLOOK WAS AFRAID TO JOIN US BECAUSE YOU MADE HIM THINK YOU DON'T LIKE HIM. GHOSTS MAY BE UNSETTLING, BUT THAT WAS JUST RUDE!"

The car slowed to turn onto the proper street.

"An' ya think bein' _nice _is gonna help?"

"YES! BEING NICE HELPS EVERYONE! IN FACT, BEING NICE IS HOW FRISK BEFRIENDED EVERYONE IN THE UNDERGROUND AND HELPED US GAIN OUR FREEDOM! SHE WAS VERY KIND, EVEN…." Silence as memories played out before his-_its_ eye sockets. "EVEN THOUGH SOME OF US DIDN'T REALLY DESERVE IT. AND THEN, SOMEHOW, SHE BROKE THE BARRIER AND FREED EVERYONE!"

They pulled into the driveway. He sighed as the seat belt released him with a click. He opened the door, and was in the midst of pushing it out of his way when a gloved hand reached over to close it. He glared at the anomaly's perplexed look.

"ISN'T THAT HOW THE FRISK OF YOUR WORLD SAVED EVERYONE?"

The words poured from him before he found the chance to stop them.

"No! Monsters never needed savin', 'cause we never got put underground in th' first place! There never was a war between humans 'n monsters 'cause people had bigger problems t' deal with than whatever you guys fought over. 'Cause our world's not some fairy tale! There's no happy endin'! Life goes on, one disaster after another an' ain't nothing gettin' fixed jus' like that, 'specially when we don't got no weird powers like all the freaks livin' here!"

"ARE-ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT MAGI-"

"There's no such thing as magic," he yelled, shoving his way out of the car. He stood there scowling at the being, adding, "ain't no fairies, no santa, an' if there's unicorns they'll shish kabob ya t' death!"

He slammed the door, already regretting his words. Emotion overruled logic as he stormed into the unlocked house, up the stairs, and into his makeshift oasis.

He sat on the bed, put a pillow to his face, and screamed, mentally berating himself for losing control. Idiot! Now his death was a certainty that stole any chance of air from his lungs. What had he become? What had happened to leave him so impulsive? Where had his composure gone? Could mind control have swayed him to this extent? Had he simply lost it? He trembled as he struggled for air, willing his body to at least _try _to preserve itself. His legs were too weak to support him. His grip on the pillow tightened until a numb aching spread throughout his fingers. A fogginess crept into his skull with an attack of vertigo.

What was to become of the world he knew, and the sister he would never see again? What were these beings planning? Did they seek to destroy his world, take it over, shape it into a soulless replica of their own? Papyrus could handle herself when it came to normal issues; he'd taught her to look after herself. But against an army of anomalies? Beings with the power to leave a seasoned agent completely helpless?

_They're gonna kill 'er, they're gonna kill everybody, they're gonna take over th' world, everybody-everybody's gonna die an' it's 'cause I couldn't stop it! I can't-I can't- think! How-why-I can't- I'm gonna die! Papyrus' gonna die! They know I'm not-they know-they know I know stuff they don' want me t' know-they know I know they're plannin' t' kill everybody! Idiot! Ya stupid, useless pile of garbage! Why'd ya do that? PAPYRUS' GONNA DIE 'CAUSE O' YOU! Undyne, Toriel-that's okay, Toriel can die-she's creepy, but Papyrus! You had one job an' y' screwed it up and now we're all gonna die! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean… I didn't- I didn't- they're all jus' so stupid!_

His thoughts further spiraled, consumed by chaos as rage and terror tore at his insides.

When at last he found himself again, Sans realized a crucial fact: he was still alive.

As he laid there, vision growing stable and oxygen returning, he didn't even bother to question when he'd fallen from the bed. A tiny spark of something flared to life within him as he panted, and that tiny, precious fragment of hope was enough to keep him going. He wasn't dead yet; there was time. It would take a convincing act to trick the creatures, and he feared losing control of his useless feelings once again. There existed a _chance _however, to turn this catastrophe around, and he would take it.

Hope, joy, relief…. It escaped him in the form of quiet laughter, and he conceded this: perhaps he _was _just a bit unstable.

**This Sans isn't the nicest person to be around, but hopefully everyone can understand his point of view to an extent at least. If the southern accent thing is too much, I can tune it down a bit...?**


	27. He Ain't Dead Yet!

Chapter Twenty Seven: He Ain't Dead Yet!

The sun was setting, casting a soft red light into the room. Dark eye sockets gazed blankly at the scene. He was as calm as he was going to get, and had nearly summoned the nerve to face the Papyrus impersonation. He sat on the edge of the anomaly's filthy bed (which by the way, didn't have a frame and sat atop an equally dirty box spring) and took a deep breath. As Sans got to his feet, he realized he still wore the ketchup-stained jacket. He instantly rid himself of the thing, tossing it aside with little concern for where it ended up.

_Arright, _he thought as he stepped nervously toward the door. _Here we go._

He opened the door, half-expecting to find some hulking abomination on the other side. Nothing. He ventured cautiously down the stairs. The foul stench of the being's cooking lead him to the kitchen. He stood in the doorway, watching for any sign of danger. Nothing. The Papyrus turned to him, face immediately portraying surprise. He searched for its anger, for any indication that things would not go as well as he hoped. Nothing.

In fact, the initial expression melted into one of cheerfulness. "HELLO, OTHER SANS! YOU'RE JUST IN TIME FOR DINNER! IT'LL BE READY IN JUST A FEW MINUTES!"

"Yeah, uh, can we talk?"

"OF COURSE!" It leaped into the air, doing a single flip before it landed in front of him.

He stepped back, a familiar unseen force having punched him in the chest. He took another breath as the creature said to meet in the dining room. He joined it at the table, momentarily reminded of how useless the dining room in his own abode was. He couldn't recall when last they'd used it.

"WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE TO TALK ABOUT?"

"I gotta apologize," he said, flinching at the blow to his pride. "Shouldn't 'ave yelled at ya. My world's a little different, but, uh ya done figured that much out. There wasn't any war in our history, not with humans 'n monsters at least. Th' races jus' kinda accepted each other. Any fightin' that went on was different countries 'n stuff. Even then, it was really rare. Everybody's jus' been gettin' along fer hundreds o' years now."

"An' there ain't no magic there. Sure, weird stuff happens, but a lot of it can't be proved or anythin', an' there's scientific explanations fer th' other stuff. Can't nobody make things appear from nothin'."

"PERHAPS THAT IS WHY ALPHYS' MACHINES COULDN'T READ YOU AT FIRST! BECAUSE THEY LOOKED FOR MAGIC WHERE THERE WAS IN FACT, NONE! AND WHEN THEY TRIED AGAIN LATER, IT WORKED BECAUSE YOU HAD BEEN HERE FOR LONG ENOUGH TO GAIN SOME!"

"Maybe. Anyway, jus' because people get along there, it don't mean everybody's friends with each other. People 'r a lot more…. Distant. They jus' kinda do their own thing, 'n ya gotta know how t' look out fer yerself. A lot o' th' time, people aren't _this_ nice t' people they don't know. We still make friends, it's jus', we don't act like everybody's _already_ our friend."

"An' lastly, I always been busy, had somethin' I had t' take care of. Now what? I'm jus' supposed to sit an' wait 'til they get that thing fixed? An' how's that gonna happen when there's no magic rock to hone in on? When they came t' kidnap me, they were only there fer a minute, right? Not long enough to mess with anythin'. But now it's been there too long an' all th' magic's gone. So here I am, in a world that's different from what I'm used to, with nothin' t' do but _hope _I get t' go home soon. I ain't been in the best mood lately, an' 'm sorry I took it out on ya."

"THAT'S OKAY OTHER SANS! I'VE ALREADY FORGIVEN YOU! AND IT MUST BE QUITE SAD TO LIVE IN A WORLD WITH NO SANTA. I-"

A skull-splitting screech cut through the anomaly's words. It yelled about its spaghetti dinner as it stood up, knocking the chair to the floor.

_Phase One done,_ he thought as it tended to the disaster in the kitchen, hands against his head in a vain attempt to muffle the noise. _Now fer Phase Two._

Once things were under control in the kitchen, he stood and crept into the foul-smelling room. He found the creature plunging a spatula into the pot, likely to scrape burnt pasta from the poor dish. One look at it made it clear this wasn't the first time it'd suffered "Papyrus'" cooking.

"I THINK IT IS READY, OTHER SANS! AND WITH ONLY ONE FIRE THIS TIME! NYEH HEH HEH!"

"Looks…. Great. But I was thinkin'," he said quietly. "Do y' think it'd be okay if I went down t' yer brother's lab t' look around? Maybe I could, uh, finish one of 'is projects or somethin'. Jus' so I got somethin' t' do?"

It put down the charred cooking utensils. "A MAGNIFICENT IDEA! MY BROTHER DOESN'T WANT ANYONE BUT HIM INSIDE THAT BASEMENT OF HIS, BUT AS IT SO HAPPENS, YOU _ARE_ HIM! SO NOT ONLY WILL THIS HELP YOU FEEL BETTER…. WE'RE TECHNICALLY NOT GOING AGAINST HIS WISHES! WOWIE!"

"Yeah…. Cool. So-"

"I'LL GET THE SPARE KEY," the anomaly proclaimed, sprinting from the room.

He looked to the black remnants of food. "Rest in pieces, pile o' dead noodles."

The being's pounding footsteps reentered the room. It handed him a small silver key. "HERE YOU ARE! I'LL FIX YOU A PLATE OF SPAGHETTI SO YOU CAN EAT WHILE YOU LOOK AROUND."

"That's okay. No, uh- no offense, but I ain't really hungry."

"BUT YOU'VE HARDLY EATEN ALL DAY!" The "Papyrus" gave him a disapproving look before retrieving a tinfoil-covered plate. "AT LEAST TAKE THE LEFTOVERS FROM THE PICNIC! IT'S NOT A WHOLE LOT, AND YOU'LL NEED SOME BRAIN FUEL."

"'Kay. Thanks," he replied as he reluctantly took the plate. "Guess I'll see ya later."

And with that, he fled the area, hastily making his way to the basement door.

He turned the key and pulled it from the lock. He opened the door, eye sockets narrowed as he stared into the shadows. He pocketed the key and stepped inside, feeling for a light switch. Illumination flooded the staircase with a click. He closed the door and locked it.

_Please let there be somethin' useful in here, an' not a friggin' poltergeist!_


	28. Picture This

Chapter Twenty Eight: Picture This

The room was far more spacious then he'd been expecting, and quite well-lit. He supposed it made sense, given that this was the anomaly's laboratory. As it was, things hadn't made sense in a while, and his surprise persisted as he crept across the dull grey floor. It was a mess; miscellaneous tools laid strewn about, pieces of scrap metal were piled up in a corner along with empty ketchup bottles, and each desktop was littered with complex-looking notes. A self-sustaining tornado of garbage existed next to a desk full of computers.

He set down the plate of food, staring at the chair which stood ominously at the center of it all. He strode over to the thing and plopped down on the filthy seat, then rolled to a folding table. Loose pages littered the surface. Some portrayed electronic devices of various uses while others appeared to be diagrams of elaborate pranks. He picked up a notebook to give its contents a quick review. Flipping through the pages, he saw nothing of particular use. He tossed it and chose a different location to search.

After finding much of the same at a battered desk, he shoved the papers aside and opened a drawer. Bolts, a puzzle cube, ketchup packets, and two more useless notebooks. The second drawer revealed similar findings. Third time's the charm, right? He pulled it open to see a small stack of books. He removed them, dropping them on the faintly sticky desktop.

A quantum physics textbook opened to a joke book hidden within. He opened the joke book and found another title claiming to hold scientific knowledge. Within that, another book of jokes. This process repeated several times until…. Another packet of ketchup fell from the final compartment. He blinked, glaring at the "limited edition" condiment. What was it with this being and ketchup? Sans looked around, before opening the packet and squirting its contents into his mouth.

_Not bad, but barbecue sauce's still better._

He threw the packet at the tornado and continued his mission.

After a quick look around, he decided the filing cabinet was as well a place as any to look. A quiet growling as the chair rolled, then a piercing squeak as he pulled the top drawer open. He stood up to reach what rested within. He dumped the miscellaneous items on the chair.

There were a couple of electronic devices which showed no sign of functionality, no matter the buttons he pressed. He briefly examined a worn out video game cartridge before tossing it aside. Surprise surprise, a few ketchup packets. With a sigh, he picked up a notebook to skim through its pages, finding nothing useful. He scanned the second one with identical results and threw it across the room with a groan.

He glared down at the final book, tempted to leave it be. But what if he missed something? It was a possibility his nerves refused to ignore. His dark eye sockets glared at the meaningless drawings blinking in and out of his vision. Something caught his attention just before the back cover escaped his fingers. Finding the picture was fairly easy, though no less confusing than anything that had lead up to this point.

It was an extremely detailed portrayal of a flower. Thorny vines guarded its flexible stem, and invaded the image from every angle. At the center of it all was a face which seemed to look into the depths of his soul. Sans stared back, momentarily convinced that it would leap from the page and bury its fangs into his skull. The writing scrawled onto the other page was perhaps even more unsettling. Far from the relaxed words of previous notes, this was clearly written by a frantic hand:

_What is this and why does it keep showing up in my dreams?_

He closed the book, dropped it back into the drawer, and slammed it shut.

"Okay," he said slowly.

He cleared off the chair and sat down. Whatever this flower was, it must be terrible to have such an effect on the other Sans.

He caught himself. No, no, this was an anomaly, a creature! It wasn't him by any stretch of the imagination, and it certainly didn't feel fear.

His stomach growled in an overly-aggressive manner. He reluctantly rolled the chair over to the plate of food. He tossed the tinfoil into the tornado and took a bite of pie. With his free hand, he booted up one of the many computers. As it started up, he took a moment to stare at the unexpectedly delicious dessert. No pie tasted so lovely after sitting for a while. This was clearly a part of this world's mind control powers. Perhaps further research was in order, he thought with another bite.

_Welcome, Skelepun_

_Password:_

Muttering expletives, he typed, "password" into the box and hit the enter key.

_nope._

He stared dumbfounded at the singular word. The screen went black moments later, leaving him to stare at his reflection. That smiley trash bag of an anomaly… Now there were _two _creatures he wanted to punch in the face, the Undyne knock-off of course being the other.

He shoved the last bit of crust into his mouth, glaring at the screen. His "eye" twitched slightly as he grabbed a roll from the plate. He noticed in the midst of his ireful meal, a tiny white corner poking out from beneath a mouse pad. He quickly finished eating, refusing to acknowledge the food's delightful taste. He wiped his fingers on his shirt and retrieved the object of interest.

_*It's a picture of the other you, with a bunch of anomalies you've never seen before._

_*It looks happy._

On the back were written two simple words in what looked to be the sans serif font: Don't forget.

These were not people; they were anomalous entities. They were plotting the destruction of his world, or a takeover at the least. Why did he feel something for this picture? Why did he take care to put it back where he'd found it, hiding it in the spot the creature had wanted it to be?

He stared at the mouse pad, battling the mind control, trying his best to break its hold. Panting, he searched every drawer for something he could use. He pulled the broken device from a mess of beakers and pencils. Just as he hoped, sparks flew from the exposed wires when touched together. Unsure of how long the thing would remain active in its condition, he retrieved the picture and set fire to the vile hold this world had on his mind.

He dropped it, and watched it burn until there was nothing left but ash.

"Ya ain't gonna win," he told this world of freaks. "I won't let ya."


	29. Toriel's Tu-Toriel on Murder: Part One

Chapter Twenty Nine: Toriel's Tu-Toriel on Murder: Part One

The garage door closed with a horrible shriek as he stumbled into the house. He kicked off the Other Sans' shoes and dropped the keys beside them on the floor. Eye sockets dark, he shuffled into the living room and collapsed onto the couch. Today had been particularly exhausting, and he hoped to never again come face to beak with a knife-wielding ostrich creature. Face buried in a throw pillow, he tried to erase the images from his mind.

He began drifting off…

The doorbell tore through the fuzzy beginnings of sleep. His eye sockets opened to darkness, though he neglected to raise his head, even as the bell rang once more. Perhaps, he thought against all logic, Undyne would leave if he pretended not to exist. He closed his eye sockets as though doing so would banish the repeating sound. It wasn't long before there was no pause between the annoying dings. What was so urgent that it couldn't wait for his nap?

"Sans! Doorbell's goin' off!" Papyrus yelled from her room.

"Oh really?"

He forced his limbs to move, dragging himself to the front door and opening it. He made no attempts at hiding his less-than-ideal mood. One of the perks of impersonating the other him, he supposed, was that no one would be fazed to see him without a happy expression. Of course, the reason for his unfriendly frame of mind _was_ that very situation, so it wasn't much of a bright side to view.

He blinked, not quite understanding what was wrong with the scene at first.

"Sans."

He stared at the familiar face a moment longer before realization punched him in the face. It was not Undyne glaring down at him, but this world's version of Toriel. She wore a simple black shirt, rather low-cut, and a long flowing skirt, black with blood-red symbols he didn't recognize. A simple golden heart locket rested on her chest, radiating a foul energy that instantly woke him.

"Uh, hey," he replied, staring at the locket.

"I'm back." Her tone was quiet, a sinister aura woven into the words she'd spoken so flatly.

"Yeah," he replied cautiously, vision flickering between her molten eyes and her foreboding jewelry.

His soul pounded harshly within his chest. The phantom force writhed at the center of his being. He took a breath as discretely as he could, trying to figure out if she was as terrifying as she seemed or if paranoia had come to vex his instincts.

"Is that all you have to say to me?" She took a step forward. Fear gripped him with its awful claws like some kind of evil entity. "After what you've done?"

"Uh, heh, I uh-"

"I told you, warned you, not to interfere with my work. Do you remember?"

She was closer now, and he glanced at the door, wondering if he could close and lock it in time.

"Not-not really… So uh, may-maybe we-"

"You don't?" she questioned as her hand slammed against the door almost as though she'd read his mind.

She stepped closer, creeping towards him like a hungry predator. He'd taken several steps back before noticing. She closed the door behind her.

"Then allow me to refresh your memory. I warned you to stay out of my business, to let me preform the sacrifices needed to bring the Great Old One back to our retched world."

She pulled up her skirt, revealing an elaborate dagger. He saw more unknown symbols in the blade as well as the golden handle. His back hit the couch.

"I told you I would kill you if you interfered. Did you not believe me? Did you not think I would do it?"

He didn't want to use the phantom force, but it seemed he had little choice. Either his life was in danger, or he'd completely lost his grip on reality thanks to this world's unstable magic. He found himself hoping that it was the latter, that he'd lost his mind, or fallen asleep and into an unusually vivid nightmare. In any case, his frantic soul demanded fight or flight; not a search for clarity.

"Heh, no, I believe you. It's just- PAPYRUS CALL FOR HELP THERE'S A MURDEROUS LUNATIC IN THE HOUSE!"

He managed to dodge her weapon. It plunged into a cushion.

In her room, Papyrus abandoned her video game with an oh-so-eloquent "well, shit. She's back."


	30. Toriel's Tu-Toriel on Murder: Part Two

Chapter Thirty: Toriel's Tu-Toriel on Murder: The Thrilling Conclusion

"Can't we just," he questioned as he dodged. "Let bygones-" her weapon tore through the air, and his sleeve. "Be bygones?"

"The Great Cthulhu would not approve of that, Sans!"

"I don't even know who that is!" he yelled as he sprinted.

"That fake accent won't help you, my nemesis!"

Oh, right, he realized as he dove under the dining room table. He was supposed to be southern. As it so happened, he couldn't care less for imitating the other Sans' speech patterns.

His back hit a chair as Toriel shoved others out of her way. They hit the floor with a deafening crash. He waited, soul pounding, scooting bit by bit to the side. She crawled towards him in a frenzy. The dagger's blade glinted between her teeth. He was just small enough to squeeze between the two seats behind him. He scrambled away from her. He quickly got to his feet and stumbled towards the kitchen.

Another crash as fingers wrapped around his ankle. He hit the floor. Sans dug his fingertips into the wooden surface as she dragged him. He twisted around to kick her squarely in the face. Be it the unseen force, adrenaline, or a mixture of both, it was enough.

He rushed into the kitchen. His eye sockets focused on a particular drawer. He considered drawing a weapon of his own. What could he do with a knife? He could barely manage the guns he'd been forced to use so much lately. He looked to the window over the sink. But would she go after Papyrus if she failed to catch him?

The time for thinking had run out. He called to the instinct-like force. Toriel charged across the room with a feral screech. The force took hold as he dodged, guiding his limbs like a puppet. He allowed this to go on as he scanned the room. He stepped to the small table and pushed a chair between them. She stumbled, giving him the chance to reach the counter. He grabbed a metal lid and turned, blocking her attack. A clang rippled through the air. He and the force worked together with their makeshift shield.

They existed in this deadly dance until a voice behind screamed, "duck!"

He reacted instantly. A high-pitched chirp as a pale green light flashed above his head. Toriel hit the floor as he rose.

"I can't frickin' believe they let 'er outta jail."

"Heh… Uh, she okay?"

He examined her twitching form from a distance. Blood dribbled down the side of her face, the cut likely originating from the blade now laying at her side. The locket radiated its terrifying aura in spite of its owner's condition. He inched toward the dagger, instantly retreating when it was in his grasp. He set it down on the table along with the metal lid.

"She's _fine_, it's jus' set t' stun."

He looked between the over-sized weapon that Papyrus so easily wielded and the intruder lying helplessly on the floor.

"C'mon, we gotta call th' cops."

He followed her casual steps into the living room as his soul began to calm. The phone began to ring, the screen revealing Undyne as the caller. He took a moment to catch his breath and answered with a "hey, uh, this-"

She cut him off with that overly-enthusiastic voice of hers. "Hey! Y'all hungry? I'm makin' brownies. I know how much y'all like my special brownies!"

"Not now. We gotta…" He blinked at the simple rocking chair that had appeared at the center of the room. "Where'd that chair come from?"

Blinking, Papyrus answered, "I dunno."

He shoved the thought from his mind. One thing at a time, Sans. "There's a problem we gotta deal wi-"

"An' I know jus' the thing ta make ya feel better! I'll be over in a few minutes!"

A beep signaled the end of the call before he could reply. He looked to the ceiling with an exasperated sigh, then turned to Papyrus.

He froze. Toriel crept up behind her, weapon in hand. The phantom force writhed at the center of his soul, as it pounded with a fear that kept him in place. Papyrus was in danger. Papyrus…. Something about this was dreadfully familiar. He felt the room start to spin.

She gave him an odd look before an "oh yeah!" sort of expression crossed her face, followed by sheer annoyance. She turned around, aiming her weapon as he forced his lungs to cooperate. Did _nothing _faze her? He tried to remember the emergency number as he dragged his eye sockets to the phone and willed his fingers to move.

He listened to the ringing. Papyrus pulled her weapon's trigger. Nothing happened. Toriel released an unhinged laugh.

"Your puny little weapon can't harm me now. Not while I'm under the protection of such a great and powerful being!"

Papyrus backed up as the goat monster approached.

"Huh. Arright then. Guess we're doomed."

"What is your emergency?" the voice on the phone questioned.

Sans tried to explain as best he could. This world's version of his brother stepped back, reaching discretely for a pillow on the couch.

"Guess we'll jus' have ta- TAKE A THROW PILLOW T' TH' FACE YA CREEPY CULT LADY! GET IT? THROW PILLOW? LAUGH AT MY JOKES!"

While he _did _enjoy the pun, now was simply not the time. She distracted Toriel. He abandoned the phone. Magic sparked at his fingertips. A failed attack. He looked around for something he could use.

He felt eyes tearing into his very being. She had given up on pursuing the teenager, wherever Papyrus had gone. Rage propelled her over the back of the couch and towards him. He ran for the basement. He and the force worked to find some form of defense. She couldn't see as well in the dimly-lit room. He had a slight advantage. He had some knowledge of what these boxes held, and no brilliant ideas came to mind. There was nothing he knew of that could work here.

So he slipped between two cardboard towers. He didn't have long; she would surely find him with a little effort. It was nearly impossible to keep silent when his lungs were starved for air. He peeked around a corner at the figure mumbling about who-knew-what at this point. His eye sockets scanned his nearby surroundings. Anything in a box would take too long to reach. He hadn't the strength nor skill to fight her off with brute force, leaving the old lamp and short piece of scrap wood out of the question. Nothing made of glass was close enough.

He looked to the shadowy silhouette standing beside him. He blinked at the faceless being for a few moments before accepting its presence. It wasn't hostile, which was all that mattered. His expression implored it to act. Apparently, even the paranormal entity was afraid of her. He gave it a desperate questioning look. It shrugged. The two of them took another look at the room.

Two pairs of not-eyes fell upon the breaker box. It wasn't overly far. They looked to one another, then back at it. It was a risk, but what choice did he have?

He crept out from his hiding place, then ran to his target. She spotted him along the way. She charged at him with a screech, nearly tripping as she did. Sans waited, soul pulsing in an odd harmony with the unnamed force. There would only be one chance at this. Almost…

Now!

He dodged her blade. He heard a series of pops, then a ringing in his skull. He fell.

When the ringing subsided and he was able to sit up, he found a room filled with shadows. Toriel laid motionless beside him. A foul smell filled the air. She'd somehow possessed enough power in her blow for his plan to work. Muffled sirens shattered the quiet. He looked around until he spotted the shadow person.

"Thanks for nothing. What kinda poltergeist _are _you?"

"Did you _see _her?" It seemed to reply.


	31. Daily Commute

**This chapter starts on page 100 on the document, someone give me a trophy. Made of cake.**

Chapter Thirty One: Daily Commute

Scarcely had he had the chance to register the previous day's events before a new one was upon him. Sans awoke to the lovely song of death threats. He dragged himself out of bed and carefully navigated the stairs with a feline at his feet. He joined Papyrus in the kitchen for their morning coffee as his thoughts whirled about. The authorities had come and taken Toriel to a hospital, Undyne had shown up after their leave to explain that she'd panicked and destroyed her "special brownies", but that she would make another batch, and Sans had managed to repair the wires well enough for now.

So in spite of it all, it was business as usual today.

Something was bothering the teenage skeleton, though he left the matter alone. She'd been clearly unwilling to discuss such things, so he kept quiet even as she hesitated to join him in the car. They arrived at the school after an uneventful trip and bid each other a simple "see ya later" before he was on his way to the library.

Traffic was heavier than usual. He sat in the stationary car listening to the blaring of horns all around. What did they think that would solve? He sighed and turned up the radio. A vaguely familiar song drifted through the cool air as he waited, tapping his fingers on the console. He yawned, vision wandering to the sight of his surroundings.

Golden light illuminated the trees nearby. The strip of grassy land bathed in dawn's beautiful glow from within its concrete bounds. Vehicles of all colors reflected the sun whilst their owners complained about the wait. Sans looked directly at the world's home star for a moment. He missed being able to enjoy the wonders of surface life. How was it that the other version of him could manage this lifestyle, after losing that confidence that had once filled him? Surely being so nervous all the time would be draining.

What had happened to Other Sans to leave him in such a state? Had it been any specific event or had it happened gradually over the years?

Sans banished the questions as traffic began to inch along. He blinked at the road, gripping the wheel and releasing the brakes. The commute grew easier the farther they traveled, until his trip continued at its familiar pace.

He sped up when out of city limits. He doubted there would be consequences for being a few minutes late; the sooner he arrived, the sooner the day would truly begin. The sooner it did, the sooner it would reach an end. Playing pretend for a group of murderers wasn't exactly his idea of fun.

A twinge in his soul at the thought of this world's Frisk. Why had he been so engrossed in musings of the other him, when alternate Sans was a killer? There existed a definitive difference between the violent beings which sought only to harm, and a person of anomalous nature. How, he asked without word, could anyone overlook that?

He took a deep breath. He couldn't dwell on those things. He'd more than enough of his own troubles to face, and there was nothing he could do anyway.

Speaking of trouble…

A shriek rose above the droning of voices on the radio. The pitch-black car behind righted itself after nearly swerving from the road. The engine roared as it sped towards him. He stared at the reflection in the rear view mirror, eye sockets dark and unknown force flaring to life. He shoved the gas pedal to the floor.

"Come _on_," he whined. "_Seriously_?"

Seriously.

Sunlight gleamed on the car's hood. It was getting dangerously close. His sight flickered between the road and the windshield behind this car's bumper. He couldn't see the driver through the darkened glass. Just how they were able to see him, he didn't know.

The turn was coming up. The road would take him to the library, to backup. There was no way he could manage it at this speed. It blinked in and out of his path in an instant, leaving him on unfamiliar pavement. A bump nearly stole the wheel from his hands. His pursuers entered the other lane, and sped up to reach his side.

He took his chance, and not a moment too soon. He slammed his foot against the brake pedal, turning this hulking contraption around as a noise pierced his skull. Each car was back in its proper lane. He'd barely escaped a crash. Sans battled with the clumsy metal and rubber as his mystery enemy turned. He felt the force in every instance of his steady, shaking breaths. His lungs moved in imperfect sync with its dancing aura.

The sun's beautiful light gleamed on the surface the other person's car. They worked to catch up. Faded lines flew past, flashes of yellow in the corner of his sight. He cut short the engine's rising roar as he turned the wheel. A retched squeal tore through the otherwise peaceful woods. His soul stopped for a moment as the car tilted to the side.

He shoved the gas pedal flat as it would go. The car struggled forward, quaking when a black blur rushed by, grazing it. He finished the journey as quickly as possible, speed limits be darned.

He parked quite well, sliding the dirty red vehicle directly into the center of the two lines. He took a deep breath. He strode calmly into the library and the hidden facility beneath. He listened silently to Kira's list of the day's events as she handed him some coffee.

_*Time to start the day._


	32. The Chapter in which Sans Tries Barbecue

Chapter Thirty Two: The Chapter in which Sans Tries Barbecue

Sans stood before a simple wooden door, a silent battle with himself playing out. The phantom force danced about at the center of his soul, not in an unpleasant manner. It gave no indication of danger, merely of its presence. He stared at nothing as he debated calling for its help. Whether or not he would need it was yet to be known; doing so would be an extra safety precaution.

The "Site Director" awaited him beyond the wood barrier. Supposedly, this meeting was to discuss the tampered weapons and more recent car chase. He'd been there to witness both, of course. That didn't mean he knew everything he was supposed to. What was he to do in such a situation? Would the Director believe he'd suffered memory loss? It stood to reason that he would if the explanation was enough for Kira. Still he asked himself if using the force was in order.

Even as he considered it, he rejected the idea. He knew little about the energy, doubtful at times of its very existence. The unstable magic he breathed could very well have fabricated it for all he knew. Little research had been done into such things. Sans took a deep breath, closing his tired eye sockets and lightly pinching the bridge of his "nose". This was ridiculous. No, it was there, steady rhythm of its pulses keeping his soul fairly calm. Not only that, there was no need to call for it prematurely, or at all. It was _there _and would flare to life if needed.

Or he was losing his mind. Also a possibility.

He knocked on the door.

"Sans?"

"Yeah."

"C'mon in."

He stepped inside with a confidence he didn't feel.

The setup wasn't too elaborate. Red carpet complimented the beige walls decorated with a number of framed certificates. A dark wooden desk stood across from the door, a bookshelf and a few filing cabinets behind. Hanging above the aquatic lizard monster was a rather fancy-looking gun that surely functioned as more than decoration.

"Heya. Take a seat."

He did.

"So…. Uh, about th' people that sabotaged yer mission, an' th' people that came after ya the other day."

"Didya find out who it was?"

"Nope! But we gotta few leads: Th' Puppeteers, Th' Eyes o' Cipher, an' Banshee's Cry."

"Okay."

"If it's Th' puppet guys, we should be able t' deal with it jus' fine. They're pretty dang creepy, but y'know, ain't really done nothin' we know of."

"Yeah."

The Director picked up a puzzle cube and began to fidget with the device. "Th' other two? Then we gotta problem." He paused. "I know it ain't much, but that's about all I can tell ya right now."

He blinked at the blue-scaled reptile. The force stirred uneasily. "But uh, that's not all ya called me here for, is it?"

"Yeah," was the reply. He put down the cube to stare with narrowed eyes. "Who are you an' what didya do with Sans?"

His eye sockets went dark momentarily, expression to be replaced with one of sheer annoyance. "What?"

"I wanna know," the Director began whilst rising from his chair. He crept around the desk to stand just before Sans. "Who you are. An' what you did t' th' _real _Sans."

He rested his head on a hand and glared at the other monster. "You gotta point t' this or…?"

The Director's dour features morphed into a much lighter expression. A laugh erupted from between his deadly teeth.

"Aw, looks like I done ruined it," said the lizard. "I heard ya been in a better mood than usual, even joked a lil bit with Mason."

"Yeah well," he replied, rubbing the rims of his eye sockets. "That kinda got messed up, 'specially with what happened yesterday."

"What happened yesterday?" he asked as the Director sat atop his desk.

"Long story. Anything else?"

"Ah, jus' one thing. Y' know how th' Stormwalkers project got rescheduled?"

"Yeah. Sometime next week, I think."

"Yep, well, that's got rescheduled again. I'll keep ya posted."

"Okay."

There was something woven into the Director's cheery expression that worried him. A silence hung in the air which sparked a cold flame within his soul. The force danced with it.

"Arright, well, if that's all, guess I'll see ya later," Sans uttered as he rose from the chair.

"Have a nice day," the Director replied to his retreating form.

OoOoO

He sank into the desk chair, releasing an exhausted sigh. Sans stared at his reflection in the blank computer screen, wondering how dangerous it would be to try teleporting back to his own world. If he made such an attempt, would it merely fail? Or would his atoms be scattered across the multiverse? Neither sounded like an option he'd be happy with. He mimicked the sound of a dying whale as he reluctantly started up the computer.

A knock at the door alerted him to Kira's arrival. She poked her head into the room as he stared at the screen with half-lidded eye sockets.

"Need anything?"

"Coffee. An' whatever ya used t' make it... not taste bad."

"Okay."

At her departure, the device finished its startup process. He sat up properly, only to immediately lean back and begin randomly pressing keys, as though doing so would fix his every problem.

When it failed, he checked his messages. They were uninteresting for the most part; confirmation and approval of his mission reports, as well as another demand that people stop referring to their group as a fart.

One stood out however, catching his attention enough that he deigned to sit up again. The message told of a new, experimental method of erasing memories, by use of a particular type of light. Supposedly, certain patterns of flashes could leave someone with varying amounts of forgetfulness, depending on how much a person knew. If it proved effective, he dared believe, he could soon have a safety net, a way to quell suspicious minds.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?"

The energy sparked gleefully.

OoOoO

"I'm back! And I brought dinner!"

He kicked off the sweaty shoes, dropped the keys beside them, and ambled into the living room. Placing the large bag upon the coffee table, he called yet again for Papyrus. He received no reply as the delectable smell tempted him. Sans couldn't recall having barbecue. It had never been a very common style of food in the Underground. In this region of this world, it was a challenge to _not _come across such restaurants. Papyrus had mentioned craving food from her favorite place the other day, and his elevated mood had suggested he stop by.

"Papyrus, I brought you food! C'mere!"

No answer as he flipped through the various television channels. This wasn't even _remotely _funny, he thought as he dropped the remote on the couch and ambled to the stairs. Doomkitty tried to trip him on the way up, as he questioned whether Other Sans' sister was even in the house. He reached her bedroom door and knocked.

"WHAT?"

"I went to that barbecue place you told me about. I know it's a little early for dinner, but I was hungry and it was on the way so…"

The door opened, revealing narrowed eye sockets. "Where's th' food then?"

"In the living room."

She paused, before leaving her lair without a word. He followed her down the stairs, the cat at his feet, and asked about her foul mood.

"Don't wanna talk about it."

"Aw, c'mon."

"No. 'S fine. Not yer problem."

He half-expected her to take her meal and retreat to her room. When she sat down to glare at the TV, he took a trip to the kitchen and returned with two cans of soda balanced atop his skull. The food's enticing aroma drove his stomach to growl.

"Y'know, you _can _tell me what's bothering ya."

She stared blankly, much to his disappointment. Her expression softened as she took one of the drinks.

"It's okay, really. Nothin' I can't handle, jus' stupid an' irritatin'."

"Okay," was his hesitant reply.

"Yer in a nice mood. What happened? Y' get an idea on how t' fix this whole thing?"

"Not yet," he said as he dumped his food out on the table. "Just trying to make the best of a bad _switchuation_, is all."

She smiled, exhaling heavily. He decided to consider it a victory.

"This stuff smells great."

She stared at him, half-eaten sandwich in hand as he poured sauce all over his.

"You ain't never had _barbecue _before?"

"Nope."

"Then hurry up an' try it! You'll never wanna go back t' regular food!"

**Sorry this chapter took so long. Thinking I'm just gonna stop telling myself that I'll actually do things on time...**


	33. A Restless Reckless Driver

Chapter Thirty Three: A Restless Reckless Driver

As the days went on, Sans' paranoia dulled to some extent, in spite of his efforts to cling to his old friend. The pressure in his chest again faded into the background, air coming easily enough. He tried each day to find a way back to his world, to no avail.

The anomaly's basement lab proved useless for the most part. What few pieces of interesting information he found lead nowhere. There was much to be discovered in that mess of a room, however, driving him to continue the search. He'd yet to correctly guess a password. He could only get it wrong so many times before needing a break.

Much as he disliked spending time around the creatures, he needed to look at something other than this room. He reluctantly ascended the stairs to join the other Papyrus.

"OTHER SANS! YOU'RE JUST IN TIME FOR LUNCH!"

"Not hungry."

It was a lie, of course, but his only alternative was Grillby's, and he wasn't in the mood to socialize.

"BUT I EVEN COOKED IT WITHOUT SETTING ANYTHING ON FIRE THIS TIME!"

Curse this world's mind control! The creature's disappointed expression was enough to break his will. He knew he'd regret his fearful agreement, as he shuffled into the dining room behind the anomaly.

"AS AN EXPERT COOK, I DECLARE THIS MY BEST DISH YET! PREPARE YOUR TASTE BUDS, OTHER SANS!"

He blinked. "We don' have taste buds. Or tongues."

A plate of spaghetti appeared before him, drenched in tomato sauce. To his surprise, the scent was fairly pleasant. His stomach demanded the food. He took a tentative bite as the Papyrus impersonation rambled. Finding the taste mostly bearable, he decided to finish the meal. Having skipped dinner the night before, the pasta disappeared rather quickly. He declined the offer of seconds.

He stared at nothing as it cleaned up, deaf to the hiss of the kitchen faucet and Papyrus' singing. An odd feeling stirred within him, one he hadn't known in a while: restlessness. He was unaccustomed to this inactive life his lookalike so enjoyed. To leave the relative "safety" of this abode was to expose his presence to others, rendering him stuck in a miserable loop.

He crossed his arms on the table, unfocused vision going black once he closed his eye sockets and buried his face in stained sleeves. A part of him felt this world's voice tempting him to sleep. Much as he loathed to admit it, this foul situation was the closest thing to a vacation he'd experienced in years. He resisted the notion, of course, and wouldn't have been able to nap even if he were open to the idea. A phantom electricity crackled in his skull. Not only was he awake, he was slightly _more _awake than usual.

He quietly mimicked the sound of a dying whale.

"WHAT'S WRONG?"

"Nothin'."

"NOW THAT'S JUST SILLY. ONE DOES NOT MAKE SUCH SOUNDS FOR NO REASON! THEREFORE! I KNOW YOU ARE LYING."

He sighed, deciding to face the anomaly and explain. It would only pester him into submission if he refused.

"HMM…. SO YOU DON'T WANT TO BE INSIDE, BUT DON'T WANT TO BE OUTSIDE EITHER?"

"Don't wanna talk t' people, don't wanna pretend t' be yer brother. Gettin' sick o' puns."

The Papyrus impersonation blinked at him as though that final statement was the most absurd thing it'd ever witnessed anyone say.

Upon recovering from the shock, it said, "WELL… THAT IS QUITE A CONUNDRUM. HOWEVER! THE GREAT PAPYRUS HAS A SOLUTION!"

He glared at that theatrical pose. "What?"

"WE CAN GO FOR A DRIVE! THAT WAY, YOU CAN GET A CHANGE OF SCENERY, AND BE RECLUSIVE ALL AT THE SAME TIME!"

He stared, surprised that this strange being had actually suggested a decent solution.

"Y'know what, let's do it."

It used some kind of telekinetic power to make its scarf dance to imaginary wind, saying, "THEN I SHALL MEET YOU IN THE CAR!"

It pranced from the room as he rose from his seat. He glanced down at the faded blue sweater, wondering if he should attempt another vain search for something cleaner. Deciding against it, he made the short trip to the Papyrus' car.

An idea struck him as he approached.

He opened the driver side door and asked, "can I drive?"

"YOU KNOW HOW TO DRIVE?"

"Yeah."

"WELL, I'M NOT SURE IF YOUR LICENSE IS VALID IN A PARALLEL UNIVERSE, BUT SURE! WHAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG?"

…

Once out on the open road, Papyrus was sure he would soon find out.

"OTHER SANS, PLEASE SLOW DOWN! YOU'RE GOING TWENTY MILES OVER THE SPEED LIMIT!"

"Ain't nobody care 'bout those unless there's cops around!"

This world's version of his sister released a fearful "NYEEEEEEEHH!" as he chuckled.

The peripheral world existed as nothing more than blurs in the corners of his vision. He wove a path through existing traffic, shifting from lane to lane as he questioned how long it'd been since he'd enjoyed such a ride.

His insides were alive with a storm of conflict; exhilaration mixed with simmering rage to bring an unhinged look to his face. A laugh erupted from him as he left behind the mimic city he'd been trapped within for far too long. He entertained the notion of making his grand escape. To leave behind this world of anomalies, find a way back home, and add a new victory to his impressive collection… It was a goal that seemed possible in these beautiful moments.

There was a presence missing from the air, which allowed him to breathe unhindered.

"OTHER SANS, THIS DOESN'T SEEM LIKE A VERY RESPONSIBLE THING TO DO!"

"What's it with you an' bein' responsible?"

"I THOUGHT YOU WERE THE OPPOSITE OF MY BROTHER: A MATURE, RESPONSIBLE ADULT! WHO DOESN'T BREAK ROAD SAFETY LAWS!"

"Screw road safety laws; Imma do what I want!"

"YOU'RE A CRAZY PERSON!"

"Yeah, well sometimes ya jus' gotta go a little crazy!"

"BUT YOU'RE GOING TO CRASH!"

"I ain't gonna crash! I know what I'm doin' so shuddup!"

A traffic light he wasn't expecting- a line of cars blocking the way. His eye sockets went dark. He slammed his foot down on the break pedal, screaming in unison with the creature beside him. A horrible screeching tore through the air, ending just as they reached the red light. There they sat, the stares of a few other drivers upon them, panting and clutching at their pounding souls.

"I-" the being's voice was far quieter than usual. "I'm driving back."


	34. Expired Food and Expired Patience

Chapter Thirty Four: Expired Food and Expired Patience

Something was off about Other Sans. Papyrus had begun to suspect such as of late, now having grown sure of the fact. Little slipped past him; he __was __the Great Papyrus, after all. He'd chalked up the majority of these odd behaviors to differences between worlds, as well as the stress of impersonating such a lazy skeleton. Neither, thought Papyrus, explained the fixation on urban legends.

"Imma find that dang siren head thing," Other Sans had said before departure.

Papyrus had left shortly after to run a few errands, only to return to an even more perplexing scene.

"NYEH? I THOUGHT YOU WENT LOOKING FOR THAT SIREN PERSON?"

He mumbled something.

"WHAT?"

"I sayed I couldn' find it but I will t'marr."

"I'M NOT SURE WHAT LANGUAGE YOU'RE SPEAKING."

"Git outta th' kitchen."

"BUT IT'S MY KITCHEN! WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING? WHY IS THERE FOOD ALL OVER THE FLOOR?"

"Is 'spired."

"WHAT?"

"Is is'pired."

"OTHER SANS-"

The otherworldly version of his brother brought his hands together with a sudden, slow inhale, closing his eye sockets.

"Th' food. Is. _Expired_."

"OH," said Papyrus, dragging the word out. "WHAT EXACTLY DOES THAT MEAN?"

An unhinged look befell Sans' face. Along came the skeletal eye twitch.

"Means th' food ain't useful no more. Y' can't eat it. It's gone bad."

Papyrus began to question how such a fact could be so. He abandoned the words in favor of catching what was left of a tomato.

"Jus' lookit that thing! How in th' name o' conspirsy theories couldya thing that's eatable?"

Papyrus blinked. "WELL… UNDYNE SAYS THAT ALL FOOD IS EDIBLE IF YOU'RE DETERMINED ENOUGH."

Other Sans spouted some exasperated gibberish before commanding, "smell it."

"WHA-"

"Smellthedangtomato!"

With a skeptical look, he sniffed the rotten tomato remains. Papyrus then questioned without words just how the room had begun to spin. His vision clouded, and a painful stinging assaulted his skull. The decaying fruit slipped from his grasp. It landed on the floor with a foul splat.

"Y'ain't s'posed t' organize yer groceries by color. Yer s'posed t' do it by expiration date. An' vegetables 'r s'posed t' be used real quick after ya git 'em. No friggin' wonder yer sucha bad cook!"

"I'M… NOT SURE WHAT YOU MEAN. MOSTLY BECAUSE I CAN'T UNDERSTAND A WORD YOU'RE SAYING. BUT! ASGORE'S CLONE HAS BEEN GIVING COOKING LESSONS TO BOTH UNDYNE AND I! AND SHE SAYS I AM IMPROVING!"

"Yeah well, you'd git a lot better a lot faster if ya'd use eatable stuff. I been findin' things in here from eighteen twelve, an' I ain't even know how ya did that."

A moment of silence passed between them, Sans' annoyance a flickering flame that refused to die. He considered punching this infuriating cinnamon roll in the face before correcting that if he was to punch anyone-any_thing, _he'd rather it be this world's impersonation of his neighbor. With a tired sigh, he suggested a trip to the nearest grocery store.

…

By the time they'd finished their impromptu shopping trip, Sans' nerves had calmed to some extent. Papyrus could understand him once more, if that was any indication. He'd spent the past couple of hours explaining the proper use of these new grocery items and attaining Toriel's assurance that she would assist with tonight's dinner. Of course, this meant he'd be putting up with the company of the anomalous beings long enough for a dinner party. In the end, he figured it would be worth it; he was growing rather tired of starving.

_Guess y' could say I'm _fed up _with it._

He picked up his bottle of barbecue sauce and returned to his work.

A few hours laid between him and a hopefully-decent dinner. Plenty of time to make a few hundred password guesses. He glared at the computer screen, a feeling he refused to recognize begrudgingly sparking within him. The lazy creature was a bit brighter than he'd first concluded. None of the obvious answers proved fruitful, nor did those which took a bit of piecing together. Sans unfortunately lacked the skills needed to hack the device.

He possessed only some limited knowledge of such matters. He could bypass a few basic security measures, break into some poorly guarded systems. His skills hadn't come close to unlocking a thing. In fact, his failures had lead to two of the three computers locking down entirely for twenty four hours.

He took an absent-minded sip of the condiment, vision wandering about. He'd somewhat organized this foul mess of a basement. Much remained a cluttered wreck, but at least it wasn't as much of a cluttered wreck as before. No item sparked a modicum of an idea. He'd picked up what he could in terms of dates, to discover no birthday was the key he needed. He'd tried the word "ketchup" and a hundred other versions of it. Nothing.

With a sigh, he typed, "mustard" into the bar.

_nope._

"What a friggin' surprise."

The computer shut off, and with it, his patience. He growled some ireful gibberish whilst battling with the urge to punch a hole through the screen. He grabbed the bottle of sauce and took to pacing around the room. Since when did anomalies have complex passwords? Since when did anomalies have _societies_? He muttered expletives, trying to make sense of the nonsensical.

He took a few deep breaths.

_Okay, okay. It's fine. They ain't gonna kill ya, not anytime soon, anyway. That's gotta mean their agent won't hurt Papyrus, right? So we got some time. Right? Right? Right. Yeah. This's fine. It's fine._

He drank until half the bottle of barbecue sauce was gone, and ascended the stairs. He returned his drink of choice to the fridge and kept an eye out for Papyrus- _the thing that looked vaguely like Papyrus_. Without the thing in sight, and no auditory warnings of its presence, Sans took the opportunity to release his anger into a pillow.

He wallowed in annoyance.

…

Faint voices drifted in and out of his mind. He jolted upward, limbs flailing momentarily, the motion sending a blue blanket flying. His eye sockets scanned the room for any instance of a threat. They found widened eyes staring back at him.

Frisk sat upon the floor at the coffee table, across from Napstablook. Undyne lounged on a large beanbag chair at the side across from him. The blanket laid atop what appeared to be a board game.

"Bad dream?"

He glared at the fish monster. "Whadda you talkin' 'bout?"

"Uh, well, you woke up like something was attacking you," she replied with a less-than-amused look.

"Maybe somethin' _was _attackin' me. An' I wasn't sleepin' so I didn't wake up."

Now it was her turn to glare. "Whatever. You messed up their game."

He turned his attention back to the setup. Frisk smiled in what was likely meant to be a reassuring manner. Napstablook sank into the floor upon feeling his ireful gaze.

"Wanna play with us now that your nap's over?"

"I don't take naps."

"Okay, well now that you're up from your not-nap, you wanna play?"

"No," he replied as he rose from the couch. "Imma go fer a walk."

"Come back soon! They just started dinner!"

_Don' tell me what t' do ya little snot._


	35. Dinner and a Show

Chapter Thirty Five: Dinner and a Show

The sun had began its daily descent into the horizon. Birdsong danced throughout the air, and pleasant scents were woven into the gentle evening breeze. Sans ambled along a sidewalk, taking notice of the stillness which permeated his surroundings. Traffic was sparse. People were out of course, moving at a relaxed pace and greeting him as they passed. There existed a distinct lack of activity, however. This world was far less busy than he was used to. He'd adjusted somewhat, but the fact never ceased to strike him upon first stepping out.

With no one in sight, he allowed the cheery mask to vanish. The lights in his eye sockets dimmed to nonexistence. He stared blankly at the cracks in the sidewalk, watching them come and go from his vision as he thought.

A nap? He didn't take naps! Sans couldn't recall a time in his life when he'd _ever _taken a nap. There was always something to do, a task to complete, a conspiracy to uncover. Could this world's hold on his mind really have grown so strong? Was he taking on the attributes of his anomalous lookalike? Did their master plan involve assimilating peoples' consciousness and identities into their collective? Then why send an agent to his own world if theirs was needed for such goals?

No part of this made any sense!

Was this part of a new training exercise? If it was, he feared there was another first growing near: failure. He'd hit roadblocks more times than he'd cared to count; never had he been well and truly defeated. He narrowed his eye sockets, the points of light returned, shining with a brilliance they hadn't known in a while. An odd energy pulsed through his fingers, which he rejected with every fiber of his being. He hadn't tasted failure yet, and he didn't intend to anytime soon. Whatever this was, it wasn't about to beat him!

And with that assurance, what was the harm in enjoying a nice dinner?

…

"Welcome back, Sans. We were just about to send Frisk after you. Dinner is ready!"

"Y-yeah, and nothing- no fires!"

"I'M SO PROUD OF ME!" Papyrus was blushing, a gloved hand at each cheekbone.

He gave the group a suspicious look before joining them in the dining room. All but the ghost helped themselves to the delicious-smelling pasta. Conversation filled the air as he grabbed a large serving and a fork to shovel noodles down his gullet. Ignoring the cacophony as it raged around him, Sans took a wary bite of his meal. His lack of a tongue had never been so happy. Half of the bowl was gone in a minute flat. Toriel's voice caught his attention.

"Napstablook dear, why are you not eating?"

"Oh… I should have told you… but I didn't… and now you're all mad at me… oh no…"

"We're 'ot 'ad atchu," Undyne said through a mouthful of food.

"I'm sorry… I can only eat ghost food… I'm a ghost…"

He blinked. Of all the odd things he'd heard, this was among the strangest.

He shoved more food into his mouth.

"WHAT?"

"He can only eat ghost food," Frisk repeated as though she understood perfectly well.

"BUT WHAT IS GHOST FOOD?"

"It's food," said Alphys.

The human finished, "but in ghost form."

He refilled his bowl.

"It's okay… I can just… watch the rest of you eat."

"Nonsense! We will find a way to solve this. Somehow." Toriel's expression said otherwise.

"Oh no… it's okay…"

An idea occurred to him in the midst of their arguments. He stood abruptly to fill the empty bowl at Undyne's other side, making sure to cause as much disruption for her as possible. Ghost food, huh? And how are ghosts made? With this notion in mind, he grabbed a free fork and shoved it downward into the dish. It hit the bottom with a muffled clink. As the others observed with bewildered expressions, he stabbed the sauce-covered noodles a few times. He paused, unsure of what, if anything, was meant to happen next.

To his surprise, the food took on a translucent blue color.

"Oh… You made some ghost food…"

"'Course I did. I definitely knew that would do…. That. Yeah. Totally."

"Thank you… Other Sans."

With a quick glare at him, Undyne questioned, "uh, how did he find out about the whole parallel world thing anyway?"

Alphys took a sip of her soda. "We had to tell him after the picnic. Because S-Sans acted so-so _off_. And Napstablook c-could sense that s-something-"

"Breathe." The fish monster cast a warning look at him. "Nobody's gonna yell at you."

He finished his food as she finished her sentence.

He sat back and half-listened as their voices drifted through the air. His stomach filled for the first time in a while, sleepiness seeped into him, and he felt a yawn coming. He allowed it to run its course. After all, there was no need to worry, right? He could handle whatever these anomalies threw at him, whatever they had in store. No matter how harsh the multiverse may be, he was _Sans_. He was the best agent the ATTF had, and could surely handle this awfully confusing situation.

Despite not having the faintest clue of _how _he would do it.

As the final rays of daylight penetrated the room, he felt his eye sockets begin to close. After downing the last of his soda, he surrendered to the influence of drowsiness. The voices grew fainter, blending with one another until fading to silence.

"AWAKEN FROM YOUR FOOD COMA!"

Such a volume from Frisk's voice did succeed in jolting him awake. He glared at the anomaly, half-noticing that the table had been cleaned up for the most part. He heard the hissing of the kitchen faucet.

"What?"

"Wanna play with us now?"

"No."

"Aw c'mon!"

"No."

"Oh, come now. There is no need to be so distant; you are among friends Other Sans, and I believe you are starting to realize that."

"I ain't realizin' nothin'." He rose and made his way toward the living room.

A hand gripped his shoulder, one that he would recognize in any world. An image flashed in his mind of the goat-like monster with the bloody dress and crazed look in her eyes. He batted her hand away as he turned and took a quick step back. She responded to this and his nervous gaze with a look of surprise and concern.

"What is wrong other Sans? Why do you behave the way that you do?"

Undyne stood just between the kitchen and dining room. She bared her shark-like teeth in their direction.

"Hey! How'd you make him more afraid of you than he is of me?"

The Toriel lookalike didn't find the chance to reply.

"I ain't afraid o' her an' I ain't afraid o' _you_."

"_Sure _you're not. That's why you looked so fu-"

"Undyne."

"Friggin' terrified when I caught you."

He took a step toward her. She returned the favor.

"Least I don't _need _no magic t' fight somebody."

They drew closer.

Frisk merely watched them from her seat.

"Enough, you two."

"You think I need magic to beat you?" Her laughter was fuel to the ireful flame in his heart. "Have you NOT been paying ANY attention to ANYTHING? DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHO I AM?"

"U-Undyne?"

"Sans."

"Yer a crappy imitation o' my neighbor, yer an- a _butt_-"

"I've heard swear words before," Frisk pointed out.

"Frisk, you are not helping."

"W-what's going on?" Alphys entered the room just as their faces were inches away from each other.

"Nothing. Nothing is happening and nothing is going to"

Frisk gave her mother a skeptical look. "Are you sure about that?"


	36. Skelefish Showdown

Chapter Thirty Six: Skelefish Showdown

Deadly teeth glinted. Sans didn't flinch; he'd seen far worse than her.

Undyne spoke in a growling voice. "Meet me outside."

"Undyne, no. Sans, no," said an exasperated Toriel.

"Sans, yes," was his reply.

"Um, a-actually, it might be the best thing- the way for them t-to solve this. I mean, it may help Other Sans vent some frustration a little. A-and Undyne hasn't fought anyone all day, so…."

"Oh dear," the Toriel that wasn't uttered with a sigh and a soft facepalm. "Alright."

Frisk chanted "fight!" whilst following them into the back yard. Toriel was close behind, with Alphys trailing along after the group.

His heart began its familiar pounding, a feeling much welcomed after so long. The air was pleasantly cool, and nocturnal insects filled it with their songs. Light flooded the area with a click. Toriel silenced Frisk's chanting.

He observed his opponent, watching her punch an invisible foe to hype herself up. He raised a metaphorical eyebrow and adjusted his stance. His first real fight against an anomaly in a while. A taste of the life he knew. His lungs filled without trouble as he cracked his knuckles.

"NGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!"

He watched her charge at him. She crossed the distance between them in a few strides. He dodged effortlessly. She stumbled to a halt. She recovered quickly. He narrowly avoided a punch, raising an arm as hers flew past his face. He slammed his elbow down on hers and threw a quick punch with his free hand.

The world shifted as his feet lost the ground. She shoved his light form upward and kneed him with an angry "GAH!" Pain exploded throughout the right side of his rib cage. He landed with a grunt and rolled away from her, back on his feet moments later. Her approach was on the wary side this time, analyzing his every move. Clutching his throbbing ribs, he did the same. He jolted to the side to avoid a blow. It was a fake out, and her fist connected with his eye socket.

She tried for another punch, which he narrowly avoided. He turned and stepped quickly back and into her exposed abdomen. He rammed his elbow into her recently-filled gut. He threw a swift blow at her nose and heard a crack. He retreated before she could retaliate. He kept a close eye socket on the anomaly's limbs, knowing well what would happen should they find his vulnerable organs.

"Gah! You little- COME HERE!"

She attacked with a flurry of attempted punches. He avoided one after another. They stopped, and another crack rippled through the air. He fell with a yelp, fingers protecting a small fracture at his knee. She approached. He ignored the pain in his leg to tackle her. She wasn't expecting it; they fell to the ground.

They wrestled, flinging dirt about. His bones collected bruises and he struggled to gain the upper hand. She had an advantage in weight. It was no problem, so long as he could use that against her. He smelled her foul breath as he glared up at an ireful eye. He flailed his limbs about. She tried to capture and pin them. Emphasis on _tried_.

A jab at her throat disabled his opponent. He shoved her backwards and scrambled to his feet. He stood for a moment, watching her cough as he caught his breath. Sans walked the few steps toward her as she began to rise. He took hold of her arm and jerked it forward. She stumbled, and he turned his back to her as he pulled the limb over his shoulder. She was back on the ground with a well-practiced maneuver. He ensured the harshest landing he could.

He placed a foot on her heaving chest and crossed his arms, a silent claim to victory.

"U-Undyne!"

"She's arright. Jus' got th' wind knocked out of 'er," he said as Alphys rushed to her aid.

He panted as he stepped away, wiping sweat from his skull with a satisfied grin. The dazed look in the anomaly's eye faded gradually into a molten stare. Had this been a battle of expressions however, she would have bested him long ago. Frisk cheered for his victory and filled the air with excited chatter.

"I-it's okay. J-just-just take a-a minute to breathe while I-I heal you, okay?"

"That was so cool! Where'd you learn to do that?"

"It was most certainly _not _'cool,' my child," said Toriel with a warning glance. "That being said, how _is _it you can fight so effectively, Sans?"

Perhaps he hadn't thought this through.

"I-uh… Well, y'see-"

"I HEARD A COMMOTION! WHAT IS GOING ON OUT HERE?"

"Other Sans just kicked Undyne's butt!"

"NYEH?"

As they filled Papyrus in, Undyne would find herself well enough to stand. She stormed off, growling expletives under her breath, refusing to look anyone in the eye. Alphys of course chased after her. Toriel would soon find the chance to say her farewells and leave with Frisk in tow. Napstablook had apparently left immediately after eating, leaving the two skeletons alone once more.

Sans danced carefully around the subject of his combat skills until retreating from the troublesome copy to shower and rest for the night.

OoOoO

Orange fur, red fur, pale grey and black.

The unseen force writhed excitedly in the core of his soul, tickling his mind with tidbits of information. Orange, red, grey, and black. Fur and feathers and bits of stone. These fragments of images flashed in and out of his skull, and of all the colors it was the yellow that concerned him the most. For it brought not a feeling of aching familiarity, but waves of phantom dread.

Sans opened his sockets to a dark room. He dared not think of the time. He'd told himself over and over not to dwell on these visions and feelings. He'd told himself it was nothing more than illusion. He sat up and allowed his bleary gaze to scan his shadowed surroundings. They found nothing of use. He hadn't truly been expecting them to. It was merely a distraction, and one short lived.

He forced himself to face the cruel reality: he couldn't sleep.

And something was missing.


	37. A SkeleTON of Information

**Quick question that may or may not have anything to do with this story: how much of another universe are we allowed to put in a story before it's considered crossover and has to go in that section?**

Chapter Thirty Seven: A SkeleTON of Information, Not for You to See

The faint humming of the AC droned on, unheard in the midst of the rhythmic tapping which filled the air. Sans had nearly completed his latest mission report. Dealing with phantom cows had been an interesting task, and one that left him with a number of puns to include in this document. He chuckled, a momentary disruption. Joke after joke appeared on the screen along with the necessary information. The lights in his eye sockets glowed brightly, a blanket of glee attempting to suffocate his concerns.

There had been a breakthrough in research for those memory-erasing lights. A number of tests were already underway for the prototype machines. A safety net would soon be available to him, to use as he saw fit. Should the need arise to quell suspicion, he would soon have a method to fulfill it. So he typed out every conceivable ounce of wordplay, his fingers darting frantically around the keyboard.

Why no, he wasn't hiding from an uncomfortable truth! Why do you ask such a question?

OoOoO

Sans gave the computer a death glare whilst shoving an entire hot dog into his mouth. The Nil within his jaws worked to break up his meal and carry it to his stomach. He violently shook his hand in a vain try for comfort. His fingers persisted in their odd tingling, leading him to wonder yet again of the cause. Upstairs, the Papyrus impostor cheered for its favorite anime characters.

But one guess remained, and he would be locked out of this wretched device yet again. He wished that he'd paid more attention to the world of computer programming, enough to know some way around this. Unfortunately, he had witnessed no shooting stars, and that myth was pure garbage anyway. Just as magic was, as well as the notion that he would ever manage to access this dang computer.

He'd arranged this mess of a room into a somewhat-orderly form of chaos, he reflected as he scanned it for ideas. Finding none, he stared up at the ceiling and spun slowly around in the rolling chair. Doing nothing only served to worsen his ire. The tingling manifested within his eye sockets.

With a sigh, he pulled up the screen and typed in:_ unlocksaysme_.

He stared blankly at the spinning ring of light, blinking as the home screen appeared moments later. He rubbed the rims of his "eyes" to combat the prickling they suffered. He stretched and rose from the battered desk chair and ambled his way toward the stairs. He looked up at the basement door and began to climb the steps. Perhaps, he thought, he could take another look around the room later, and try one of the other-

He froze. There he stood for what must have been ten seconds, before leaping back down to the basement floor. Ignoring the pain which coursed through his feet and shinbones, he stumbled to the infernal machine and released a triumphant cry. He sat down and took a moment to appreciate seeing a galaxy wallpaper filled with icons, rather than a black screen. Only a moment. There was work to be done.

He found a number of games as well as a few astrology-related programs. He opened the internet browser and poked around for a bit. As it turned out, the anomaly was already logged into most of the websites it frequented; it was likely not expecting any unwanted visitors to come so far.

A shopping site revealed nothing of interest: the being had purchased various computer parts, physical copies of video games, a telescope lens, and some kind of multi-use cooking utensil, no doubt a gift for Papyrus. A video sharing site listed some game coding tutorials and comedy routines with informative space videos sprinkled throughout. It'd watched a few about history as well. All in all, nothing useful. Two online games failed to produce anything viable. The anomaly's email inbox consisted of confirmation messages, space-related newsletters, and the usual spam. He refrained from beating the computer to smithereens.

_There's _gotta _be somethin' here._

He took a deep breath, the tingling in his "eyes" and fingers fainter than before, and continued. His attention turned back to the icons. Sans opened the documents and examined the titles each one held. As he suspected, most were detailed prank ideas and different kinds of jokes. The one simply labeled "puns" had around two hundred thousand words. He considered skimming through that one to see if any hidden info laid within, then decided to preserve what little sanity he had.

A click shot through the air as he accessed the audio section of the files. Unlike the written documents, and everything else about the being, these were properly organized. He gazed unblinking at the scene, unable to believe it at first. A wonderful feeling flared to life within his heart: hope. Perhaps here, he would find something, a fraction of useful info that could lead to his return.

Experiment Log 1

"_Okay, so uh… Old stuff got corrupted somehow, so I guess we're starting from scratch. I'm gonna do experiments, and talk about 'em here. Starting now._

Nothing of interest came from that file. He sat back and half-listened.

Experiment Log 2

"_Tried to make an infinitely-refilling bottle of ketchup. I thought it would be easy but, now I've gotta huge mess to clean up. And by clean up I mean: get Papyrus to clean up. Thought if I could take the molecules..."_

Experiment Log 13

"… _but he said I can't have a robot to pick up socks for me. That it's the laziest idea I've had yet."_

Experiment Log 18

"… _not really sure what it's gonna be. Just got this feeling that I gotta make it. Whatever "it" is. Weird. The idea came to me in a dream the other day. Didn't get to finish it though; maybe that's why I dunno what the thing is yet. Undyne woke me up and started yelling about humans and anime and mind control."_

A machine the being had felt it needed to make, but without the knowledge of why or what it would do? Interesting.

Experiment Log 18-1

"… _and a bunch of snow got in through the roof and melted. Not sure what happened to the roof exactly, but oh well. It's _snow problem_. It'll cause a delay in this new project, but that's fine…"_

Experiment Log 20

"_Today I learned two things. One: don't "borrow" your friend's old handheld gaming system to make a ketchup detector. No matter how long its been since she used it. She _will _notice. Two: whether you have muscles or not, electrical magic hurts. Especially when that _shocking _experience comes from an angry lizard._


	38. Fragments

Chapter Thirty Eight: Fragments

Experiment Log 26

"… _get back to that one eventually. No rush, not like it's anything important, right? Heh… Anyway, Papyrus said we should try out some new hobbies, so I decided to take up gardening. Of course, the plants I've been trying to grow are genetically engineered to be weird shapes and colors, but he doesn't need to know that."_

Experiment Log 28

"_Today's subject is confetti, and how to make it as terrifying as possible."_

Experime(*nt Log 18-3

"… _haven't gotta solid idea of what it's supposed to do, but at least I know _something_ now. Dunno if dimension hopping was what Dream Me was intending but that's what my brain keeps coming back to. Whether it's supposed to bring things here or send me to some other plane, I guess I'll figure out later."_

Experiment Log 34-2

"_It's coming along okay, I guess. Should have it done pretty soon. Sure, it's technically cheating, but only cheating to make the game a little more… _interesting_. Heh heh, Alphys' gonna kill me but it'll be worth it. I mean really, she can't be reading all those creepy "haunted video game" stories and expect me _not _to mess with her."_

0Experi/?ment Log 18-4

"_Heya. So I've been working on this thing for a while. Most of the parts are put together 'n everything. The whole "tapping into other planes of existence" thing is gonna be tricky, and I might not have as much time to work on it since Papyrus signed me up for a bunch of other sentry positions. Ah well."_

Captain's Log Stardate 1002-13-whatever

"_Not sure what I'm gonna call this since it doesn't really relate to any projects. I mean, I did grow some weird plants, but they didn't last long. And I don't think this has anything to do with it._

_So uh, ever since I can remember, I've had this bad feeling about yellow flowers. And every once in a while, I'll get this constant sense of deja vu. Like, everything will be normal for a while, and then for a week, everything just feels _off_. Like I've lived through all this before, but maybe slightly different every time? Not sure if I'm making any sense here, but figured it was about time I started to document it. Ya see, I was on my way to meet Papyrus for lunch when I heard him talking to somebody… That "somebody" turned out to be a sentient flower."_

Exper1(ment Log 36

"_I'm gonna make a robot assistant to help me get things done."_

Experiment Log 36-1

"_Robot's done. I named it Glados, and it's been pretty helpful so far."_

+*0 ej%

"_...no idea how long it'll be before it all just resets agai-"_

Uaz:::{_Don'tfinishdon'tfinish_.::}[_Don'tfinishdon'tfinishdon'tfinish_#2*7__Don'tfinishfinishfinish__finish_=.~E9{]'

"_Finish it."_

((

Experiment Log 36-2

"… _dismantled Glados because she kept lying about the cake. Extreme? Maybe. But I really wanted some cake this time."_

Experiment Log 18-5

"… _but it never works. No matter how many times I fix the dang thing, no matter how many times I double check before turning it on, it just breaks. Think it's time to quit."_

C4_aptai's Log`( Stard\\\\\\\\\\\

"… _having these dreams. I always have trouble remembering what they're about…"_

Experiment Log 39

"… _so yeah, self-tying shoe laces are my new arch nemesis."_

Experi$3o Lo%)

"_Gonna see what happens when you mix-"_

"_SANS, I WILL NOT ALLOW YOU TO BE LATE AGAIN! COME OUT OF OUR STORAGE SHED AND GET TO YOUR POST!"_

"_Guess I'll continue this later."_

4(#*593($ "Finish the machine, Sans." #*$023

(42**_Don't_ #)0M!

"_Don't you want to see us again?"_

#($*39#($04UE0_Donttrust$)2_

!_

"… _don't know. I'll tell ya what I _do _know: it's not a human. Been working with Alphys; we're trying to figure out how it's doing all this, how nobody can beat it… How it always seems to know… what's coming next. Heh heh…"_

{|\48#*-0

"_I'm gonna try to stop it. There's probably no point, but well, the universe is at stake here, so I guess I'll get off my tailbone and do something. If I die, at least I can tell Papyrus I tried, right?"_

…

_You're not the one I need._

Sans jolted upward, panting, sweat running down his skull. He frantically scanned the room in search of the threat, that strange energy pulsing yet again through his fingers and eye sockets. Finding nothing, he stared at the black computer screen above him, and the overturned chair that laid between him and the desk. An odd clattering rippled through the otherwise undisturbed air as he clutched his chest. It took him a few seconds to realize he was trembling.

He struggled to recall what had happened. He'd been trying to guess the password to that anomaly's computer. He'd gotten it right after countless failed attempts, and proceeded to investigate the device. He'd stumbled across a list of audio files of the being's little science experiments, and then… Then…

_Then I… They got weird. New ones started showin' up outta nowhere. Random strings o' symbols. I think there was other voices?_

He took a few minutes to compose himself, then slowly got to his feet. Sans crept warily towards the computer, keeping an eye socket on it as he righted the chair. He sat down with a deep breath and booted up the machine. He typed the password with unsteady hands and opened the list of files. He scrolled through it on high alert until reaching the list's end. No sign of anything suspicious. No evidence of these hazy memories which he clung to.

Had any of it been real? Was this world driving him into complete and utter madness?

A pounding at the door made him jump.

"OTHER SANS! UNDYNE IS HERE AND WANTS TO TALK TO YOU! ALSO! DID YOU FALL ASLEEP? YOU'VE BEEN DOWN THERE ALL NIGHT!"


	39. The Calm

Chapter Thirty Nine: The Calm

Sans blinked, unsure at first of why the infuriating fish would want anything to do with him. The events of the other night resurfaced after a moment of delay. He stared at the screen, giving the device a suspicious look and wondering if there were any golf clubs nearby. In any case, he wanted nothing to do with Undyne. Perhaps if he remained silent-

"OTHER SANS, I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE!"

With an exasperated sigh he responded, "I'm comin'!"

He began to climb the stairs. A wave of vertigo assaulted his skull when he was nearly to the door. He gripped the rail, with hardly an instant to question the yellow haze before it vanished. He paused while the dizziness faded, ensuring its final departure before finishing the trip.

"Guess I fell asleep at th' computer," he said to Papyrus. "Whadda _you _want?"

"I want to talk to you, jerk. Can we take a walk?"

He regarded her oddly reserved demeanor with utmost alertness. "Sure."

Together they left the house and ambled along a pristine sidewalk. He hung back, keeping an eye socket on the anomaly as he allowed her to lead the way. A quiet growling above the world caught his attention. The sky held a blanket of grey, silver cracks littering the scene. It would rain soon.

A few cars flew past them. Children played just close enough for the skeleton to hear. Wind rushed through deep green leaves. In spite of the noises, this was far less than he was accustomed to. Undyne neglected to utter a word of their destination- for there _was _a destination; she walked with controlled purpose. His pulse quickened the farther they traveled. An unseen veil had descended upon them, one heavy enough to impede his breaths, which he kept silent in spite of the strain.

They left the town behind in favor of a shadowed stretch of woods. His instincts screamed to flee, but to what? These creatures were set on this game, and there would surely be consequences for leaving a "friend" who wanted his company. Just what did this world have in store for him this time?

She halted in a clearing, her back turned to him.

"So, I've been thinking."

"Congratulations."

She faced him with bared teeth and said, "I've been thinking about what happened a couple days ago. When we fought each other. I hate to say this… I REALLY hate to say this, and I'm also only gonna say it ONCE, got it?"

"Get t' yer point already."

She glared a moment longer before her expression changed. She appeared a strange mix of humiliated and impressed.

"I underestimated you. You kinda kicked my butt."

"Kinda?"

"BUT ANYWAY, the way you fought got me thinking. Y'see, they didn't get a lot of footage of you before the cameras got screwed up. They said you work at a library. And I know what you said about your LV." A look of sadness as she told him, "I wanted to believe you."

The prickling phantom pain in his chest struck like a bolt of lightning.

"But they saw enough to know you don't do any training, and a friggin' librarian doesn't fight like that." She took a step closer. "So what gives? I know you don't like us, and I know you can fight. You can hurt someone."

"What 're y' goin' on about?"

"GAH! What I'm trying to say ya little punk, is I don't want you hurting my friends! I want to know how you got all that LV. If I need to keep my eye on you."

He struggled to keep his voice steady. "I don't know wha'cher talkin' about, okay? I told ya 'bout all that stuff. An' what d' you think I can do when all y'all got crazy powers?"

"You lied. And now that you've been in our world for a while, you might even _have _magic for all I know. Now tell me how you got your LV."

"I ain't got no paranormal powers an' I-"

"Do you even know what it stands for? It's an acronym. It stands for LOVE."

He blinked. "… What."

"And LOVE is also an acronym."

"You have an acronym fer an acronym?"

"It stands for Level of ViolencE. The more you hurt people, the more EXP you get. When you get enough EXP, you get LV. You get more powerful, and-"

"So what's EXP stand for?"

She paused, more to reflect on her next words than the interruption.

"It stands for Execution Points."

He thought back to all of the creatures he'd killed over his career. The pieces clicked into place as that strange energy coursed through his hands and eye sockets. This world had some way of knowing, some horrendous telepathic power that allowed it to read him, translating his skill into something more quantifiable. These beings in their twisted act of innocence gave it a name, two in fact, both unpleasant titles. This world… These beings… It was all against him, analyzing his threat level and adjusting accordingly. If that was the case…

Would he ever escape it?

**Apologies for the wait, I hope you're enjoying this story ****nonetheless~ ****We're nearing the end of it**


	40. The Storm

Chapter Forty: The Storm

"So just tell me, alright? I want the truth, not the BS you told us earlier."

The heaviness returned to his chest, an upside-down heart shape glowing green. Oxygen was in painfully short supply as he reflected on her words. Her voice carried not the overly-aggressive nature of previous encounters. Her tone held a cold edge, as though wielding a sharpened blade. He'd known that she was dangerous; just how much so had eluded him until now. No longer could he hide his struggle for air, though he kept it to a minimum.

The same energy that'd pestered him elsewhere now resided most strongly in his chest. It seemed to provide some form of buffer between him and the creature's power. He questioned its validity even as he made this observation. While the heaviness didn't quite feel the same as before, her anomalous abilities impeded him regardless.

In the unlikely scenario that he were to escape the Undyne lookalike, he'd have a world of paranormal beings to deal with, not to mention the sentient planet itself. He had no way of taking them all and finding a way back to his world, no matter how strongly he wished to believe it. Whatever their plan was, no matter their intentions, he had no way to combat it. He was but one agent of "A Terribly Threatening Fart", and alone, subject to the whims of these entities.

He was hopelessly trapped, and couldn't form an answer quickly enough.

"Tell me. 'Cause if you've got magic now-"

"I don't got no magic!" He struggled in her grasp like a frightened mouse pinned beneath a cat's paw. "Ain't some-"

"STOP INTERRUPTING ME!"

The creature threw up a hand, creating a blue glow just beyond its fingers and a spear before he found the chance to blink. It shot towards him. He reacted with a fearful yelp, and pain coursed through his hands. He looked down to find he'd caught the infernal weapon, its point a mere centimeter away from the heart. He dragged air into his lungs, watching the faint orange light pulse beneath his rib cage.

The Undyne clone allowed the binding force to lessen. He felt its gaze upon him, singular eye burning into his skull as he openly panted. Thunder growled above them whilst he silently cursed his emotions.

"Hah… Hah… H- yer gonna have t' do better than that…"

He fought vainly against the anomaly's hold, adjusting his grip on the spear but not daring to hurl it back. He held it ready as his unsteady fingers would allow, awaiting her-_its _next move. They studied each other as wind howled and droplets hit his skull. The creature stared as though trying to decipher some unsolvable puzzle. The shark-like teeth glinted in the dim light, the being's previous ire melting into frustrated confusion.

It released him.

"What's your problem?"

Laughter erupted from him, surprising Sans himself. He failed to halt the raucous noise as his ribs jolted under its sudden influence. The painful pressure he'd grown so accustomed to retreated, replaced with a refreshing flame as he tipped his head back. He watched a jagged flash of light tear its way through the clouds. His lungs begged for air. Droplets found his face and he stooped forward, dropping the spear, which vanished a moment later. Hands on his knees, he watched the orange light pulse in sync with his strained breaths. He gradually regained some portion of his composure. He caught his breath and stood upright to glare at the fish. She stared back at him with the most WTF expression he'd ever seen.

"What's my _problem_? _What's my fuckin' problem? _You are! You an' every other freak this world's puked up! Everythin' was fine 'til ya kidnapped me!"

The energy flowed through his bones, and he flung his hands about in attempt to rid them of the odd tingling.

"An' yer talkin' like I'm some kinda threat when y'all 're th' ones got weird powers!"

"Uh, Sans-"

"Like I can do a dang thing when y'all can jus' _stop _people in their tracks an' reverse th' flow o' time!"

"Sans-"

"I seen some weird stuff over th' years, but _this_? An' here I done thought I seen everything. I've took down evil llamas, secret societies, an' a black market run by unicorns; this world? All these paranormal psychos? Yer somethin' else, I'll give ya that!"

"DUDE-"

"SHUT UP!"

With his words, he flung a hand in her direction. A flurry of white lines rushed through his peripheral and into that infuriating lookalike. He blinked, vision tinted orange as he watched her fly backward. Sans froze, arm outstretched. The world lost its odd hue an instant later. The sky broke open with a deafening crack, and rain extinguished that sorely-missed flame. It soaked the filthy jacket he'd been forced to wear. The hand that had guided that attack began to tremble as the frozen claws of realization clutched every fiber of his being. His heart pounded, dark eye sockets hardly registering the anomaly, its dazed expression, or the pale horizontal bar above its head.

He bolted.

Without a clue as to where he meant to end up, the skeleton charged through the sea of trees. He fled blindly through the undergrowth and tripped on roots. He slipped and slid through unseen puddles. He fell more times than he cared to count. Lightning tore through a dark sky and with every flash, came a fresh wave of phantom electricity. Knives and needless penetrated his core and stole the air from his lungs. The woods grew thicker, then thinner, until he stumbled into a dark clearing.

His "throat" burned. Thunder roared overhead as he tried to stand, limbs flailing wildly, thrall to thoughtless fear. He couldn't seem to right himself. His legs trembled and gave out with each attempt to continue. He scooted backwards and into a tree trunk. He stared at falling water and organized his frantic mind.

Every part of him wanted to believe that it hadn't happened. He threw out every explanation he could muster. None could hide him from the truth. There had been no one else there. Even if there had been an enemy lurking behind, what were the chances it would have attacked right at that moment, and just the Undyne, allowing him to flee? Why the orange glow? Why the strange energy he'd been feeling? Even now, it sparked excitedly in his chest and eye sockets and fingers, oblivious to the fact that its existence was a crime.

He was an anomaly. A creature. One of the very beings he'd sworn to protect the world from. This retched place- was it to blame? Or had this parasitic power lurked within him since birth, only to be awakened now? Did Papyrus hold it as well? Was it possible he'd be cured? Would the task force even try?

He stilled, not daring to breathe. No. They wouldn't. Of course they wouldn't! It wasn't policy to cure an anomaly. Their organization was meant to contain them, study and experiment with them, and terminate the dangerous entities. But he meant no harm to the innocent people of his world. He'd never do anything to harm his sister. He was far from those beings which mindlessly slaughtered.

_Are you?_

His thoughts turned to those that hadn't caused any trouble, those anomalies that kept to themselves and blended with society. The ones who'd pleaded to be left alone, to be released, and some during the experimenting stage, for death. He'd helped capture them. He'd sat idly by and watched their torment, speaking casually with coworkers around him. He'd killed them as if they were nothing more than insects, then gone home to his younger sister.

He vomited, nearly expelling the glowing food remains all over these clothes. He crawled a few feet away, and watched the rain wash away the evidence. The air was heavy, though strangely enough, it wasn't as difficult to breathe as before. A lone knife remained plunged in his soul, one sharper than the rest. It twisted, and he noticed a growing pressure at the bottoms of his eye sockets.

This wasn't right. He protected the people of his world from unspeakable dangers. He was the hero that no one knew they needed. He was a protector, a guardian! He was… He was…

_I'm a murderer. A serial killer._

Levels of violence indeed.


	41. A Step Forward

Chapter Forty One: A Step Forward

A comfortable weight found his shoulders and upper back. Sans questioned no one just when the rain had stopped. A fresh scent saturated his "nose" as a faint hiss became noticeable. He raised his head, blinking at the golden veil obscuring familiar shapes. He wasn't sure what to make of it at first, and longed for ignorance when memories resurfaced.

"Hello, Sans. Are you feeling any better?"

"UNDYNE SAID YOU STARTED RANTING ABOUT NONSENSICAL THINGS AND RAN AWAY!"

Alphys finished, "so we came to find you."

He stared at the anomalies, the creatures, the _people _he'd been stuck with. His gaze wandered to the pale blue blanket draped over him. His bones protested each minuscule movement. He felt as though his mind was entangled in spider webs. It did occur to him that he needed some form of plan, some idea of the next step to take. He lost all beginnings of one within the fog in his head.

"Perhaps we should continue this later, after you have had a chance to rest properly?"

He met her kind eyes for the first time without judgment, thinking that just maybe, that could wait.

"Okay."

OoOoO

"I can't believe that just happened!"

"Yep."

"That was a literal, actual, alien!"

"Uh-huh."

"But like… Why was she trying to order pizza? Do they not have pizza in space?"

Sans humored the horse monster's rantings as he adjusted the device he held. It was a small metal bar, gleaming a beautiful silver, surface unbroken save for a few tiny bulbs and a button. He twisted one end of it, until the orbs emitted a faint green glow. Green, he remembered, was the mildest setting. Should this mini machine do its job, the one before him would lose no more than a couple of hours.

He faced the green glow toward her eyes. The lights flared to life with a click as he carefully averted his own gaze. Upon looking back, he found a blank expression. The ATTF agents about guided the dazed civilian away.

Momentarily unsupervised, he took this opportunity to admire the organization's handiwork. With the device's sleek, pleasant look as well as its rather impressive function, it seemed to him like something directly from a sci-fi film. It was an incredible feat; an intricate mix of invention and magic that impressed him more than anything had in a while. His smile was genuine at the thought that he'd managed to sneak one for himself. Whether or not he would use his forbidden souvenir, he had yet to decide. It mattered not. He'd figured he deserved it, all things considered.

He shoved all thoughts of this world's Frisk from his mind. There was nothing he could do. Why concern himself with it? He built a mental wall between himself and all further musings.

His attention snapped to the phone he'd left in the task force vehicle. It was a faint, but distinct ringtone. He ambled from the nameless cafe's front, finding Other Sans' phone on the seat where he'd left it. "Papyrus- School" clearly warned him of potential issues. His mind flashed back to all of the warning signs of something bothering the teenager.

"Hey."

"Hello? Is this Sans?"

"Yep. Whatcha want? I'm kinda busy."

The voice at the other end mirrored his unfriendly tone. "You need t' come pick up yer sister."

His act nearly faltered at the abrupt statement. "Why?"

"Jus' come- You need t' jus' come git her. She's been suspended."

Pinching the bridge of his "nose" he took a deep breath. One of the nameless agents arrived at the open car door. He bothered not to face them directly, and they fled moments later.

"Again, why?"

"Jus'- can you come git her? Can you send somebody else t' git 'er?"

"I'll try. Now tell me what th' heck she did."

"Arright. Come soon as you can."

"Lady, can y' tell me-"

Beep.

He filled his lungs once more, exhaling with an exasperated, "okay."

He'd a number of things left to do according to Kira. Seeing as noon had already come and gone however, he left for the day to see about the latest problem. Perhaps later he would find the time to write up his mission report. The notion of a nap soon popped into his thoughts, and such plans were forgotten. This world was getting to him; for the idea of sleep hadn't been the first thing he considered. The force danced about in his core at a steady pace, a feeling Sans had grown accustomed to.

She was waiting at the front of the building, bag slumped unceremoniously against her shinbone. She wore the usual gothic attire, though slightly disheveled. A carefully blank expression blanketed her features as she took her seat in the car. He noticed in spite of this, a heavy amount of ire, with something else mixed within. She was proud of herself in spite of it all, serving only to heighten his curiosity.

"Heya," he said as her seat belt clicked into place. "So, whatcha do?"

There was a pause. "Well, there was these _butt_holes. An' they wouldn't stop. So I beat the livin'… _heck _out of 'em."

"Did ya maybe try… talking?"

"Sorta. Anyway. Don't matter. They wouldn't leave me alone so I _made _'em. An' th' school says I did somethin' wrong."

"Eh… Okay." He supposed her actions were fair enough.

It seemed odd that no one would seek to speak with him about the incident. He didn't care to question it. She didn't allow him much chance to.

"I even tried t' talk t' th' teachers an' everything! So don' say I didn't try. Anyway, we gonna go? I'm hungry."

With this new bit of information, he felt a flare of annoyance at the faculty's inaction. Just why they would issue consequences for her and spare the bullies was beyond him. The force pricked the innards of his soul. Just as quickly as it came, it faded with the mention of food.

His stomach growled, as did hers moments later as they joined the cluster of traffic. It seemed they had both missed lunch.


	42. Tem… Smart!

Chapter Forty Two: Tem… Smart!

"YOU'RE DOING VERY WELL, OTHER SANS!"

For the past two weeks, he'd done almost nothing but train. He could voice no end goal to this, merely wanting to gain full control over his magic. What else was there to do? He was trapped within the confines of their world until the lizard found a way to send him back.

A part of him never wished to return. The irrational side of his brain screamed to retrieve his sister and live out the rest of his days in this fairy tale world. Be it fortunate or unfortunate, for the results had yet to be seen, he'd found himself able to think far more clearly as of late. Perhaps the event had broken something in his mind. Perhaps it had fixed an issue. Perhaps there was something in the air, or something missing from it, that allowed him to breathe easier than before.

The creature- _Papyrus _allowed the dragon skull to disappear, saying, "YOU'VE LEARNED SO QUICKLY! JUST AS MY BROTHER DOES!"

He studied his expression. "Ya miss 'im, don'cha?"

"WELL… MAYBE. JUST A LITTLE."

He looked away, hoping the other Sans was more capable than his friends believed.

They reentered the house, his movements automatic. Thankfully, they hadn't questioned him too much about what exactly had happened that day. It was after some prying that he'd asked them to simply leave the subject be. Aside from the occasional suspicious glare from Undyne, they respected his request. They seemed more happy than anything else, that whatever had vexed him had been put to rest.

Everything was a conspiracy. Everything was a cover up. This world was an exception he'd never believed in, until finding himself a part of it.

"WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE FOR LUNCH?"

"Not spaghetti-"

"SPAGHETTI?"

"No-"

"WOWIE," said Papyrus, a gloved hand at each blushing cheekbone. "YOU LOVE MY FAVORITE DISH ALMOST AS MUCH AS I DO!"

"No, that's not-"

Alas, this world's hyper version of his sister had already pranced away into the kitchen. Sans face-palmed, thinking to himself that he never wanted to see another pasta noodle again. They were beginning haunt his dreams, replacing the blood-soaked images of violent anomalies' fangs. He much preferred the latter, and would've gladly punched Undyne in the gut for a serving of ribs.

Of course, he would've done it either way. The barbecue dinner would merely be a bonus.

A faint knocking at the door caught his attention. He ambled back over to the abode's entrance and swung it open with a curious look. He saw no one in front of him, leading him at first to believe the occurrence nothing more than a prank. Moments later, he noticed the tiny cat monster staring up at him with the most "LOL Cat" look he'd ever witnessed.

"Hoi!"

"Uh, hey."

"I'm Temmie!"

"Okay."

There they stood, an awkward silence filling the room.

"I come! Get new egg! Egg…. Will hatch! Tem… proud parent!"

He blinked. "You wanna egg?"

"Egg!"

The eggs in the fridge weren't the hatching kind. He didn't care enough to inform the strange monster of that, and didn't figure she would understand anyway. He gave a nonchalant reply and joined Papyrus in the kitchen. A thick smoke poured upwards from the pot. Seeing as flames were absent, he left the topic alone.

"We got eggs, right?"

"WHY YES, WE DO! THOUGH I DON'T THINK THEY WOULD GO WELL WITH SPAG-"

"Egg!"

They turned to face Temmie in unison.

She looked to Papyrus, then pointed to Sans with a tiny paw. "Who dis?"

"NYEH? WHAT DO YOU MEAN? IT'S SANS! YOU KNOW SANS." He paused. "OR AT LEAST… ONE OF YOU KNOWS HIM."

"Nuu! Not Sand! Look like Sand! Who not Sand?"

"Sand?"

"ER, WELL, THAT'S DIFFICULT TO EXPLAIN."

"Who new Sand? Tell Tem! Tem… Keep secret!"

"Is… is she okay?" He observed as the feline vibrated in place.

"I THINK SO?"

"Tell Tem! Give egg too."

"WE CAN ONLY TELL YOU IF YOU PROMISE NOT TO TELL ANYONE ELSE!"

"I don't think we should trust 'er."

This seemed to annoy the cat, who proceeded to rush over to his legs and assault them with a flurry of bites.

"NYEH!"

"Ow!"

He stumbled backwards, nearly falling as he struggled to kick the little vermin in its viciously sharp teeth.

"Tell Tem!"

He managed to land a hit squarely in her face, sending the kitten flying backwards. She bounced a few times, then landed on her feet.

"Tell Tem! And give egg."

"OKAY, OKAY," said Papyrus, locking the tiny monster in place with blue magic. "WE'LL TELL YOU!"

"Damn thing's like a piranha!"

The two of them worked to explain the situation in simplest terms, Papyrus ensuring his unwanted spaghetti lunch didn't burn the house down as they spoke. Sans lost count of all the times they had to start over or retrace their metaphorical steps, how many times they struggled to help the temmie understand some things, as well as the number of times he'd needed to defend himself from an oncoming cat attack.

"Oh," said Temmie, drawing out the word as she caressed her new egg. "I gets it now."

"Great. Now go away."

"DO YOU WANT TO TAKE SOME SPAGHETTI HOME WITH YOU TO SHARE MY AMAZING CREATION WITH YOUR FRIENDS?"

"Tem no eat spaghet," she proclaimed, raising the egg above her head as though it were some form of threat.

It fell from her paws, breaking open with a loud crack. They fearfully awaited her reaction, Sans grabbing a spatula whilst Papyrus uttered a nervous laugh. True to the feline's indescribable nature, she devoured the raw egg, shell included. Once there was no trace of the egg's existence left remaining in the floor, she produced a burp so loud and powerful that Sans felt the floor beneath him tremble.

"Tem help," she uttered cheerily. "Tem help fix problem!"

"YOU…. YOU HAVE AN IDEA?"

"Make new special marshmallow! Not Sand go and give to Sand! Bring Sand back with da new special marshmallow!"

Silence fell upon them, so deafening he was sure he'd heard a pin drop in the _neighbor's _house. The skeletal pair stared at the vibrating kitten monster before them until its face began to leave its head. Slowly, they turned to each other.

"You _gotta _be kiddin' me."


	43. Countdown

Chapter Forty Three: Countdown

Tapping filled the air, defeating any notion of silence, save for the momentary pauses between each keystroke. Sans completed his mission report and sat back with a sigh. His gaze wandered to the empty coffee cup, which he promptly discarded. He picked up the other Sans' phone, groaning dramatically upon seeing the time. Several hours remained, an unseen barrier between him and a free moment. He texted Kira for another caffeinated beverage. The day ahead was sure to be agonizing. According to his assistant, he'd nothing exciting to do today. How odd it was, that he found himself craving the threat of fire-breathing hedgehogs.

Or perhaps it wasn't so strange at all. The force within him danced about excitedly in the presence of any kind of weird danger. It was a feeling he hadn't the words to describe, but one he enjoyed. He wondered whilst staring at the computer, if the alternate version of him possessed the same presence. If such was true, would it dwindle over time?

_Y'know, we need a name for you, _he told the force, remaining unsure of its sentience. _Or maybe you have one, and I just don't know it. Kinda rude. Don't you know how to greet a new pal? 'Cause possessing 'em isn't it._

He chuckled. The questions lingered however; were there others with this unique energy? If so, had they given it an official name? Did they have any more knowledge than Sans, or were these theoretical people just as clueless? Was it in some way dangerous? Was it hiding some darker side from him?

A quick knock at the door, followed by Kira rushing in. She placed a fresh cup of coffee on the desk and retreated as he called out a thanks. He sampled the scalding liquid, finding a pleasantly sweet taste. He allowed it to cool before draining half the cup and reluctantly turning back to the work at hand.

Among other responsibilities, Other Sans wrote up detailed strategies for others' missions. One couldn't lead every last group, after all. Many sought the expertise of a seasoned agent and while he was no member of the ATTF, he'd picked up a thing or twelve about strategy. He looked over the layout of a faraway abandoned city. He thanked his many years of video game experience as he pieced together the safest way to capture the deadly entity.

The final half of his drink gradually disappeared. He'd nearly finished his instructions upon noticing the empty cup. He tossed it absentmindedly into the trash can and hurried to finish. Once done, he read it a few times, ensuring that everything was accurate and his strategy was as detailed as need be. Done. Only eighteen remained, he tried to think without acknowledging his pure exasperation.

A knock at the door gave him a welcome distraction. That was, until he saw the door open and the director's head poke through. Phantom lightning struck his soul. In spite of his precaution, the possibility of being caught, and all that would come with it, didn't fail to render him uncharacteristically anxious. The lizard monster stepped inside, closing the door, and Sans felt as though he'd be seeing that coffee again at any moment.

"How ya been?"

"Fine."

"Ya got any new jokes?"

"Not really."

"Ah. Heard 'bout yer sister. She okay?"

"Yep."

An awkward silence passed. He felt his soul pulse frantically, the force within it writhing unhappily. He felt as though someone had filled his chest with thorns. Though the magical lungs still functioned, he felt them struggle for air.

The Director cleared his throat. "Eh, well anyway… Jus' came t' tell ya we finally gotta firm date fer th' Stormwalkers project. It's next Tuesday. Won't get rescheduled again this time, I hope. Ya think ya can make it?"

He struggled for words. Why exactly was he _asking_? Sans eyed the fellow monster, studying every minute detail of his features. He found nothing malicious.

"Yeah?"

"Arright," said the Director, tail casually swinging. "Welp. I'll let ya git back t' work."

Roughly a week, he reflected upon the monster's departure. A week until this project would hopefully be done.

OoOoO

A week until a new stone was ready. A week until he at last returned home. A week to prepare for the years that laid ahead. Until the moment came, he'd little to do but wait.

Sans of course spent a heavy amount of time practicing and mastering these powers. Should they not leave him upon traveling to his not-so-magical world, they would undoubtedly prove useful if he was careful enough. Alas, the task of learning the ins and outs of these abilities failed to fully capture his attention. His mind was set on multitasking, and the inherent dangers he was sure to face neglected to completely leave him be.

It would be a difficult feat to change the task force's ways. It would require subtlety he wasn't sure he was capable of. He'd never been the most patient of skeletons, and the changes which needed to be made wouldn't happen overnight.

He exited Grillby's intent to wander until a solution spontaneously manifested. The taste of a greasy burger lingered behind his teeth. It wasn't barbecue, but he much preferred it to another plate of spaghetti.

The fiery horizon was impossible to ignore. He ambled along, gaze set upon the orange-red sky littered with thin purple clouds. The day's final glow was a truly majestic sight to behold. He failed to recall a time when he'd been entirely engrossed in its beauty, nothing else in mind. There was always another task at hand, yet another problem to be solved. Today was no different, and he turned his attention back to the sidewalk.

He turned, following the stone path to the edge of the neighborhood. He halted, staring ahead at the rows of structures, each abode housing a monster.

"Hi," said a quiet voice beside him.

He jumped, nearly snapping at Frisk for the surprise. "Hey."

"What's wrong? Aren't you happy? You can go home."

"Nothin'," he replied, turning back to the scene ahead. "Jus' thinkin' 'bout stuff."

His world's version of her… Had her suffering come to an end?

"About what?"

He paused. "'Bout how different things are here. Th' wasn't a human-monster war in my world. So it's weird t' see everybody so separated. Heard ya broke 'em out jus' a little while ago."

"Yeah," she said in a distant voice.

"How'd ya do it?"

"Well… I wasn't alone. A friend helped me. He's not here anymore."

He allowed silence to fall between them, unsure of a response.

He suppressed a yawn. The cries of the innocent haunted his dreams. For every twenty anomalies he'd taken on, there had been one person who'd wanted nothing more than to live in peace. He dared not think of such numbers for long, not with his record.

"So, I've gotta question fer ya." The words came as a surprise even to him. "Do ya think even the worst person can change? That anybody can do a little better… If they jus' try?"


End file.
